Author Of My Heart
by TheMissMegan
Summary: A closeted writer, Hermione has a chance encounter that leads to her novel potentially getting picked up. She just wasn't expecting the publisher to be Draco Malfoy! Matters of the heart run deep as they try to navigate secrets, personal issues and a society that won't stand for their blossoming friendship. Problem is, Ginny's invited him to stay with them for some reason! Lemons!
1. An Unexpected Encounter

Hello everyone! I'm TheMissMegan! I've been a member of this website for a long time but I'm just now starting to write my own fanfiction. This is the very first work I'm submitting so please be honest with your reviews. I love Harry Potter immensely, I have since I was ten years old! It's an honor to be able to create my own storyline with the wonderful characters JK Rowling brought to life.

I don't own anything Harry Potter related, other than my own plot points. Enjoy!

XOXOX TheMissMegan

Hermione was proud of the work laid out in front of her. After years of procrastination and writers block, she was finally done with her book. Printed and in perfect order, it was ready to be sent to her publisher. It was a labor of love, even though most of the time she wanted to rip her hair out while working on the blasted thing. But she actually finished it. After months of revisions and edits, she was convinced it was perfect. Her editor would jump for joy...

"Hey 'Mione?" Hermione jumped, startled out of her concentration.

"Yeah, Gin?" She called back to her best friend and roommate, Ginny Weasley. The ginger-haired girl popped her head into Hermione's room and scrunched her nose.

"Opinion please?" She asked. Hermione gestured from her work desk to her airy, open room.

"Sure," Ginny hesitated a moment, her body hidden behind the door frame. It wasn't like her to look so unsure of herself. Hermione raised her eyebrows, amused at the girl who was one year her junior. All week, the redhead had been modeling different outfit choices for her upcoming trip to America. She and her boyfriend, Theodore Nott, were attending a festival there. They'd be gone a little over two weeks, opting to attend both weekends the festival was being held for if they liked it enough. If not, Ginny very suggestively mentioned they'd find another way to pass the time.

A moment later she stepped into the bright room and stood in the middle. Hermione gasped. Ginny was dressed in what could only be described as _underwear_. The top was a black, lacy bralette, the bottoms were a pair of high waisted shorts with a chunky bronze belt. She matched a black, wide-brimmed hat and some round shades with it. Her neck adorned with bronze jewelry that had little stars and moons on the chains. The boots she wore looked uncomfortable. They were thigh highs with a heel so tall, it made Hermione feel queasy that the girl would fall. She knew Ginny wouldn't want to hear that, though, so she closed her gaping mouth and swallowed back her opinions.

"Merlin, Gin! You're a babe!" Hermione said excitedly. That Theodore was one lucky guy.

"You really think so? No critiques?" She asked looking down at herself.

"None," Hermione answered. Ginny looked back at her, a stubborn expression in place.

"Hermione Jean Granger... I know you. You have to have one thing, at least, that you'd do differently."

"Nope."

"'Mione... tell me now! I want honesty!"

"You've always told me I dress too prudish for honest opinions about your clothes!" Hermione countered. Ginny put her hands on her hips but relented her pout.

"That's true. But please tell me what you'd do differently and I'll decide if it's too prudish." The witch smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes but let them land on Ginny's boots. She glanced at them a moment before looking back up at Ginny. Ginny's eyes bugged out a bit as she followed Hermione's insinuation.

"The boots, really?"

"They're so tall, Gin."

"Theo is not a short man! I have to give myself an extra boost just to kiss him properly!"

"You're going to be in the _desert_ for Merlin's sake! It's going to be hot, sandy and hard to walk in heels of that... caliber." Hermione made a swatting gesture towards the shoes. Ginny thought a moment before relenting.

"I have a more sensible pair that should match, I suppose." She thought out loud. Hermione turned back to the stack of neat, freshly printed paper that contained her book and started tying a ribbon around it to keep it all together. "And they would go with a few other outfits... less to carry..." Ginny was still musing out loud. Hermione glanced at her and caught her staring at herself in the mirrored closet door. Ginny turned this way and that, checking herself out a bit before nodding, seeming to make a decision. "Yeah... they're too much for a sandy desert, you're right." She muttered before turning her attention back to see Hermione was now placing the stack in a box. "Your book?" She asked, excited.

"Yes." Hermione beamed, putting a lid on the box.

"You're not going to owl that, are you? I'd pity the bird who had to carry that load!"

"Of course not. I'm just getting it ready to take with me to my editor. Hopefully she has no more revisions. I'll hex her to the Hogwarts Astronomy tower and back if she mentions one more tiny comma, period or exclamation mark!" Hermione laughed but felt serious. She'd been doing edits for so long, her eyes hurt from the constant strain of staring at her computer screen.

"Do give Charlotte my best, won't you?" Ginny said sarcastically before exiting Hermione's room to don more outfit options. Ginny hated Charlotte with a passion. The woman was in her late forties, a bitter divorcee and the proud Fiction Editor in Chief at the Olympus Publishing House in London. She drank too much, smoked constantly and loved to drag Hermione out on Friday nights to 'scope out the willing male participants of London.' Hermione took it in stride, usually only having to stay at whatever bar they went to long enough for Charlotte to find her 'willing participant' for the weekend. Once a man showed any interest in the woman who lovingly referred to herself as a 'cougar,' she quickly lost interest in the more youthful witch, thus allowing her to slip out quietly and head home. Sometimes Hermione wouldn't even have enough time to order a drink. Sometimes she'd stay for one too many. Most of the time, she'd have one before a man made his interests known to Charlotte. She'd finish her white wine, pay her tab, and exit quietly. The older woman had game, Hermione had to admit.

Ginny hated how Hermione would willingly give up her valuable time and efforts for someone else to get laid instead of focusing on her own romantic dry spell. She called Charlotte a 'taker' and scolded Hermione for having such a giving nature.

 _"She's really lonely, Gin."_ Hermione had said to her one night.

 _"How could she be lonely when she has you as her lucky 'get laid charm' every weekend?"_ Hermione had brushed her off.

If it hadn't been for Charlotte Bradford, Hermione wouldn't have even dreamed she could be a real writer. They met, by chance, at the Magicafe between the Ministry of Magic and the Olympus Publishing House. Hermione had taken to having lunch there every day to get a break from the bustle of the Ministry. It was a quiet, cozy place that was just for magical folk. The coffee was sublime and the people were always friendly and inviting. Hermione suspected part of it had to do with everyone in the magical community knowing who she was, at first, but once she got to know all the employees and the owner, people were very genuine.

Charlotte showed up at the Magicafe one day abruptly and weirdly welcoming, like the Knight Bus. She donned a tight black pantsuit with a pink feather coat draped around her shoulders. She held a cigarette holder steadfast in one hand, taking pulls off the never-ending tobacco every few minutes. She set her bag on the counter while she ordered one of the most caffeinated drinks on the menu. Hermione could barely look away from the eccentric witch but thought it'd be rude to stare, so she refocused back on her laptop.

Charlotte had looked around the small space while she waited for her coffee but stopped once her eyes came upon Hermione.

"You're Hermione Granger, are you not?" She asked, smiling and showing off perfect white teeth behind her dark red lips. Hermione looked up at the woman curiously before nodding.

"Yes, Ma'am." She replied.

"Ma'am?! Sweet Circe, I don't look that old, do I?" The fabulous woman asked.

"Not at all, I didn't mean to offend you-"

"Enough, darling, may I sit?"

"Of course!" Hermione squeaked and Charlotte sat beside her, not ruffling one single feather on her jacket.

"They're flamingo feathers, darling," Charlotte said, noticing Hermione's curious stare at the jacket. "I love anything out of the norm. Fur is so 'been there, done that' and not at all in fashion for people or animals, might I add. Birds shed their feathers naturally and don't need to be harmed to obtain them for fashion purposes." She mentioned, shooting her a wink. Hermione liked this woman right away. She obviously knew of Hermione's affiliations with the Care of Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry and cared enough to mention her coat was cruelty-free.

"I'm Charlotte Bradford by the way," She extended her hand. Hermione took it and smiled.

"Pleasure,"

"The pleasure's all mine, I assure you," Charlotte said and then pointed to Hermione's laptop.

"Is this one of those muggle contraptions, then? A top for your lap? I've seen them here and there, of course..."

"Oh, well yes. It's called a laptop."

"And what do you do with it? It's all lit up and I think I see words-" Hermione placed both her hands on the screen to cover it.

"Well, uh... it does many wondrous things but currently I use it for documents." Hermione prattled nervously. She had never shared her stories with anyone. Ever.

"Documents? Like for work and such?" Charlotte asked curiously, tapping the screen with her wand. The laptop suddenly came to life, narrating the story out loud for the whole cafe to hear. Hermione fumbled for her wand and silenced the damn thing as quickly as she could but the damage was done. Everyone cast her scandalous looks. Charlotte smirked and stood, her coffee order being called from the counter. Hermione covered her face, mortified.

The part in her story she had been working on was a love scene. The whole thing wasn't some smutty work but now everyone would think it was.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Charlotte extending a business card.

"I think you should stop by sometime. That is... if you can get that 'document' out of the toplap..." She said and walked out the door, her heels clicking as she went.

Hermione reminisced on that day a moment, smiling to herself. That had been a little over a year ago. Since then, she and Charlotte had become good friends, working together diligently on Hermione's novel.

She wasn't sure what had caused Charlotte to take a chance on her or why she even rose to the occasion, setting up a meeting the very next week, but there had never been a dull day with the editor, that was for sure. They had been working around Hermione's busy Ministry hours all year, trying to perfect the story she'd created.

No one but Ginny knew she was trying to get published, though. Harry and Ron had poked a bit of fun at her writing on her own all the time in school, thinking she wrote girly poems and the like. They never knew her aspirations went beyond mere musings. They were getting suspicious about all her free time being taken, though.

Before she met Charlotte, her Friday nights had been spent with Harry, Ron, Ron's girlfriend Lavender, Ginny, and Theo, after a time. Sometimes Luna, her husband Rolf and Neville popped by but Luna and Neville were the Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology professors respectively at Hogwarts now, so it was more difficult to score time with them. Rolf was working as a Magizoologist Consultant for the Daily Prophet so Hermione saw him more often but usually only in small encounters and nods of greeting.

She did admit, she missed her friends. She often felt like a little old hermit, despite being just twenty-six, but couldn't help it. The work she was doing was so exciting and time-consuming.

As she was nearly finished, she figured there'd be more time for the little family she had created for herself.

She just hoped they liked her book and could understand why she'd been so secluded in the last year or so.

"When are you supposed to deliver the final product to Ms. Frilly Feathers?" Ginny asked, sipping on some pumpkin wine. She was primping for her date with Theo. The pair had been dating for roughly eighteen months but Ginny still made him crawl and beg for affection. She was far too busy to see him during Quidditch season, so Theo did everything in his power to make up for the time they couldn't see one another. She might make him beg, but he loved to do the begging.

"Tomorrow morning. I'm so nervous, Gin." Hermione wrung her hands in between the ties of the soft throw that was draped over her lap on the couch. Ginny tilted her wine glass back, shooting the rest of the wine before giving Hermione a smile.

"It'll be fine. Great, even." The ginger-haired girl said, fixing her lipstick.

"I've always been good at things I can comprehend; things that are logical. Writing is so subjective. What if the publishers don't like it? What if they say I'm rubbish?" Hermione stood and shook out her hands. Before Ginny could reply, the fireplace burned green and Theodore Nott stepped through the Floo, looking tall, dark and handsome as ever.

"Hullo Hermione." He greeted, giving her a small smile. When he locked eyes on Ginny, though, he appeared momentarily stunned before recovering himself and clearing his throat. "Beautiful Ginevra... you look smashing, my darling." His smile turned megawatt at the little red dress she chose to wear and Ginny's eyes held fire in them.

"I hate it when you call me that." She said, stepping forward.

"Ginevra?"

"No. Darling." She said playfully.

"You ready to go... darling?" He played back.

"Just one sec," She turned to Hermione who was trying to get away from the loving couple. "Hey 'Mione?" Hermione turned before heading up the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"First of all, don't be nervous. You're brilliant."

"How do you know?"

"I may have snuck through your things and read a draft..."

"Ginny!" Hermione stomped.

"Secondly, don't wait up for me tonight!" Ginny beamed before taking Theo's hand and apparating away with a loud crack.

Hermione couldn't sit still. And it was still way too early to sleep. The clock on the mantle chimed seven times as if to drive that logic home and she threw up her hands.

"I'm going out!" She exclaimed to no one in particular. Luckily, her Owl, Winnie, hooted in response from the kitchen's windowsill. It made her feel a little less crazy. She marched upstairs, threw on the first shirt and jeans she could find, paired the look with her sensible flats and headed for the Floo. But she couldn't think of where to go.

It was a Thursday, so no one would be at the regular pub hangout. She couldn't go to Ron's like she might have in the past. They had broken up right after Hermione finished her seventh year at Hogwarts. Ron had opted to work with George in the joke shop, living in the flat above with his dear brother. Soon after, he had bumped into Lavender in Diagon Alley. They rekindled their relationship pretty easily and had been together since. Not before he broke things off with Hermione, though, stating they were just too different and too close of friends to be romantic. Hermione had agreed.

Time apart, after having spent a year on the run in each other's constant company, had really provided perspective for them both. They harbored no ill feelings for one another after the breakup. Lavender didn't necessarily let things go that easily, still shooting Hermione 'back off' glances when they'd all hang out and joke together. But, to her defense, she was really taking the jealousy in stride and learning to let go of her anger. No easy feat considering the girl had been attacked and turned into a werewolf by Fenrir Greyback at the Battle of Hogwarts not even ten years previous. The two girls were very different, but almost becoming friends.

Harry was sometimes around during weeknights unless he had an assignment. Deciding this was her best option, she stepped into the Floo and said clearly, "12 Grimmauld Place!" She felt ill as she spun on the spot before being deposited into Harry's house.

Harry looked up, startled, from where he sat at the kitchen table amongst piles of paperwork. When he saw it was Hermione he smiled.

"That never does look graceful on anyone." He pointed and Hermione looked at herself, covered in soot. She brushed away the loose ash and scourgified the rest of herself with her wand before making her way to the table and sitting next to Harry. The house looked quite different from its' time as headquarters for the Order. It had been updated with newer appliances and redone in fresh paint and furniture. Harry hadn't covered the Black family tree, though, unable to let Sirius go in his heart. The rest of the place looked fit for a whole family, though, which made Hermione all the more sad to be there sometimes.

"Hello, Harry." She said.

"Shall I put on the kettle?" He asked. Hermione thought for a moment.

"Maybe something stronger?" She inquired. Harry raised his brows but didn't protest. He made his way to the refrigerator and opened the cupboard above it. A few different bottles clinked together before he pulled out a half-full bottle of elven plum wine.

"Can't keep the stuff any lower or less hidden. Teddy is getting so curious." Harry mused as he set the wine down on the table and left again for glasses.

"He's what, nine now? Oh, it'll be off to Hogwarts, soon!" Hermione said, feeling reminiscent. Harry chuckled and put a couple glasses down before pouring them each a few fingers.

"I can hardly believe it. That kid keeps me so busy." He said.

"How's Andromeda doing with him?" She asked.

"He spends more and more time here, actually, unless I have to take a mission. He's only with her maybe two days a week now." He said, looking tired. Hermione took a sip of wine and patted his hand.

"She's no spring chicken. And it probably helps him... staying in Lupin's old room." Hermione said softly. Harry nodded and drank his wine, too.

"I miss him." He murmured. "Tonks, too."

"We all do, Harry." They stayed quiet a moment, basking in the melancholia before Harry suddenly looked her way.

"What brings you here tonight, 'Mione? I feel like we haven't seen one another in ages. I can never seem to get away from Auror Headquarters when I'm at the Ministry..." He trailed off, glancing at his paperwork.

"I know, I'm sorry. I've been keeping myself so busy these days." She responded and then took another sip.

"Got a new boyfriend in your life?" He asked slyly.

"Not at all." She said dryly but laughed a little at his eye-roll.

"It's not so far-fetched," He said.

"I haven't dated anyone in a couple years, Harry. On purpose. Relationships are too hard and I'm always so busy."

"Don't work yourself into loneliness, 'Mione. Don't become me." Harry said quietly, placing an arm around her shoulders and taking another long pull of wine. Hermione reciprocated, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"You couldn't have done anything more than what you did. And I'm not lonely. I have all of you guys." She smiled at her dark-haired best friend. He looked older these days, more worldly. Being an Auror was exhausting work that never seemed to end. His hair was still just as dark and messy with a light smattering of facial hair along his chin, upper lip, and cheeks, seeming to grow into the look of an Auror spectacularly. He had exchanged his round, wire frames long ago for a more modern, black frame that enhanced his handsome features and beautiful green eyes. Hermione felt bad for the poor guy, having been rejected by Ginny Weasley only five years previously.

Harry snorted before pouring himself more wine. "I wish I could have done more. But she didn't want me. Still doesn't."

"You know it had nothing to do with that, Harry. She just... wasn't ready to commit. You already had baby Teddy and then wanted to get married and have babies of your own right away. You know how independent she is. And her career with the Harpies had just taken off..." Hermione dwindled off, seeing the pain on Harry's face almost as palpable as it had been the day he told her and Ron about being dumped.

"Yeah. That independence is why I see her in the Prophet parading around with Theodore bloody Nott?" He spat, looking away. Hermione looked to where he had his eyes trained on a small stack of newspapers on a chair in the corner.

"Please tell me those aren't-" Hermione got up and strode over to the stack, picking up several clippings. Some had group pictures of the Harpies after a match, others were tabloids that showed Ginny doing mundane things with Theo like getting coffee or having dinner. One, in particular, showed them holding hands crossing a street, laughing about something. They looked happy. Carefree. Hermione set the clippings down and looked back at her best friend, pity running through her.

"You'll find someone else. Someday. And when you do, they won't want to run away with their independence. They'll want you. You'll see, Harry. It just... takes time." She said, shrugging. She wasn't much of an expert on relationships, only going on a few dates since her and Ron split. But Harry didn't call her on it. He nodded absentmindedly.

"You got work in the morning?" He asked after a beat. Hermione smiled weakly.

"Yes and no," she said. "Not at the Ministry, anyways." Harry looked up at her, cocking his head to the side.

"What're you up to?" He smiled knowingly.

"I haven't told anyone but Ginny," He flinched hearing her name. "But I've been trying to write again."

"Again? I didn't think much of what you did back in school was any sort of serious writing. I thought it was just girly fluff." He shrugged apologetically at her indignant face upon hearing the words, _girly fluff._

"Well, that's one reason why I never shared my stuff with you guys!" Hermione said. "I was approached by an editor over at Olympus Publishing, though." She added nervously.

"Wow, really? That's incredible! When?" He looked genuinely surprised but happy none the less.

"About a year ago."

"A _year_?" His eyes grew round. "Why didn't you say?"

"I wanted to make sure I wasn't rubbish!" She said. "Writing for myself is one thing but when a potential opportunity to get published comes up, it really messes with a person! There's so much pressure! Charlotte says I'm a natural but-"

"Who's Charlotte?"

"Oh. The editor I mentioned." Hermione smiled. "She's the most vapid, eccentric person I've ever met."

"I doubt that-"

"That I actually _like_." She added. Harry laughed and nodded.

"Sounds about right." He took his now empty wine glass to the sink to wash it the muggle way, preferring it as he was no good at household charms.

"Anyways, I have a meeting with Charlotte and the head publisher for the department tomorrow." Hermione downed the last of her wine and handed her glass to his outstretched hand.

"That would be nerve-wracking. But I know you, Hermione. You'll do great. After working at the Ministry for so long, I'd wager you have enough skills to write an excellent book on international species equality." He said.

"Actually," Hermione bit her lip. "It's not... erm... a textbook." Harry's brow raised again.

"Then what's your book about?" He inquired.

"It's erm... a fiction." She said, feeling embarrassed.

"What's it about?" He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms. Hermione felt her face flush.

"It's a story about a couple who falls in love." She said. Harry balked a bit but tried to hide it. He looked uncomfortable, though. He was always someone who had a hard time expressing how he felt to people. When he did, it usually ended badly. Romance was a foreign subject to him, especially since Ginny left. Hermione hadn't meant to rub his face in his loneliness again.

"I'm sure it'll be rubbish." She added.

"Nonsense. I bet it'll sell." He tried to reassure her.

"I have a feeling that the only reason it'll do well is because of who I am." Hermione sat and put her head in her hands. Her curls falling in a curtain around her face. "What if people only want to publish or buy it because I'm Hermione Granger?"

"Famous war heroine. One third to the golden trio. Whip-smart and fighter for creature equality." He said in an exaggerated tone, making her glare at him. "Yeah, 'Mione, your reputation precedes you but... honestly they won't publish you unless you're a decent writer. Try to have some confidence in yourself, will ya?"

"It's not so simple." She said in a small voice.

"Well try. You'll need to exude that confidence tomorrow at your meeting." He said matter of factly. "You can be headstrong and passionate about so many things but you always fall short for yourself. Go home, soak in your tub, do that girly crap you females are so fond of to prepare yourself, and get a good nights sleep. It'll make you feel ten times more confident tomorrow. Besides, we both know how much you love being over-prepared for everything." He grinned at her. Hermione smiled back and nodded.

"You're an ass. But you're right. Thanks, Harry. I'm glad you were home tonight." She said and walked to the fireplace to collect some Floo powder. When she had a good handful, she kissed him goodbye on the cheek before Flooing home, faintly hearing him say a quick, _good luck_ , before she landed back into her own hearth.


	2. Enter The Slytherin's

When she landed, the clock on her mantle started tinkling the time out into the empty living space. Hermione checked and sure enough, she had been gone a little over an hour. She had a decent amount of time to pamper herself before her big meeting in the morning.

She opted for a face mask while she deep conditioned her hair with her own specially formulated brew, designed to make her curls more sculpted and manageable instead of frizzy. She brushed her teeth and then soaked in her claw foot tub. She turned on the radio for some background noise so she wouldn't feel so alone.

She wasn't in the tub long before she heard a commotion downstairs. She quickly rinsed out her hair and pulled the plug to the tub before stepping out and casting a quick dry spell. Pulling on some pajama bottoms and a tank top, she decided to investigate. She thought, at first, it was most likely Ginny and Theo. But when she heard glass shattering, she rushed down the stairs, wand raised.

Hermione definitely wasn't prepared for the scene in her kitchen.

She had been right that Ginny and Theo were home but she hadn't anticipated them bringing over anyone else.

Sitting at the breakfast bar was Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and none other than Draco Malfoy. Theo was on the ground, disappearing glass with his wand. Ginny and the others were drinking out of wine glasses, easy smiles on their faces, seeming to laugh at Theo's clumsiness.

"You should be more careful with Weasley's fine glassware, Nott." Draco said, obviously teasing his friend.

"I'll get her another, obviously." Theo shook his head as he stood and circled his arms around Ginny's waist. "You just tell me when and we'll shop for another." He cooed to her. No one noticed Hermione standing in the hallway, her wand hand now falling limp at her side. She tucked the piece of wood in her pajama pocket before anyone got the wrong idea. She knew Ginny had become friends with Theo's Slytherin counterparts but she wasn't aware they came to the house.

Ginny spotted her just as she was saying to Theo, "Actually, they're Hermione's. Right, 'Mione?" The redhead called to her. The others turned and instantly tried to hide a bubble of laughter. Ginny noticed a second too late that Hermione still had the face mask on.

"Easy there, Granger. You're looking a bit green." Pansy chortled. Hermione's brow furrowed as she touched her face. She felt the now dry face mask and looked away in horror at having been seen with it on by the people she felt most vulnerable to be around in her youth.

"Wait here just a sec," She heard Ginny say as Hermione ran up the stairs in embarrassment. She slammed the door to her room a second before Ginny strolled in.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione, I didn't realize you had a mask on! Your face was sort of shadowy in the hallway and I've had a few drinks-"

"It's fine," Hermione said flatly. She was rubbing the mask off with the wet washcloth from her bathroom. Ginny stepped forward and grabbed it from her, wiping off the places she was missing.

"I should have warned you we were coming back her together," Ginny said softly. "But honestly I thought you'd be in bed by now."

"Why would you bring them here? To my home?" Hermione squeaked.

"You mean _our_ home?" Ginny challenged. Hermione gauged her reaction a moment before answering.

"Of course it's our home. But you know what I meant. I know you've said you're becoming friends with them-"

"I am. They're great friends, despite their past selves-"

"But _I'm_ not friends with them. They... he..." Hermione stammered. The wounds of the past coming back to haunt her. She subconsciously grabbed her left forearm where the _Mudblood_ scar resided. An action noticed by Ginny right away.

"It's been almost ten years, Hermione. The world is a different place. They're different people. You have no idea what it was like for them." Ginny said, a fierce look in her eyes.

"You're right, I don't. I just know what it was like for me. Being teased all through school. Tortured by his family..." Hermione gave her an equally fierce expression. "Ginny, I deserved a heads up. They're your friends, not mine. You and I have always been on the same page when it comes to how we want to live together. It's pretty harmonious most of the time. But this is something I won't back down on: you need to tell me if you invite them here. I need to mentally prepare myself for such instances. I'm not telling you need my permission," She held up a hand, stopping Ginny from her first thought. "We have a much better friendship than that. I'd never assume you need my permission for anything. But you need to let me know if I'm coming home to a snake pit."

Ginny contemplated for a minute before nodding in agreement.

"I really hope you see them as I do one day." She said. "Won't you come back down? You've officially been de-greened."

"Absolutely not," Hermione said sternly. "I was getting ready for bed when I heard you guys downstairs." Ginny noticed the wand sticking out of her pocket.

"Old habits die hard, huh?"

"Yes. Especially when you have Death Eaters in your house."

Ginny didn't respond to that, not wanting to upset Hermione further by starting a fight. They'd just have to agree to disagree, for now.

"Goodnight, 'Mione."

"Goodnight Gin. Let Theo know I don't expect him to replace the glass. Merlin knows we have way too many, anyway."

"Alrighty." Ginny smiled and closed the door behind her. Hermione could hear her heels on the hardwood floors and staircase as she made her way down. A few moments later they were all laughing and chattering away.

Hermione turned to her closet, trying to ready an outfit for the next day when she heard the conversation migrate to the backyard. She and Ginny had made the place an oasis once they moved in. There was a fire pit and twinkling muggle lights that hung in scallops on the branches of the big oak tree, illuminating the table area. Hermione peaked out her window, which overlooked the yard and saw everyone lounging and laughing in the lawn chairs. A fire had been built and everyone looked relaxed with glasses of different alcohol. The only person facing towards the house was Malfoy, who noticed her staring after a minute and gave her a wary expression that was illuminated in orange light from the fire. Hermione flicked the curtains back and walked back to her closet.

She hated having them in her space. She felt like she couldn't relax.

She laid out a few outfit choices, trying to match shoes with them. She even tried to figure out jewelry to go with each outfit but became frustrated and threw all the clothes and shoes into her office chair. She had never been a very fashion forward person, usually not putting too much stock into her looks. She decided to come back to it in the morning and turned out her lamp with a quick _nox_ as she crawled under her covers. She was on the brink of sleep when she heard her name pop up in conversation outside, floating through her open window.

"Hermione isn't that bad, you guys. She's brilliant." Ginny said.

"We all know she's smart, Gin. That's not the issue." A man with a deep voice said. Hermione pegged that to be Blaise. She hardly spoke with the guy in school but knew the others voices too well to not recognize his as the odd one out.

"There shouldn't be an issue in the first place, Zabini." Ginny said, her tone uneven.

"Hey... that's not what he means." Theo soothed.

"I just meant that, while we don't for a second doubt her smarts or cleverness since we've all been beat out by her in that department for years," Blaise went on and a female voice, Pansy's, scoffed and clicked her tongue. "The girl has no people skills. She seems hard to get to know. I doubt very much any of us would have anything in common with her."

"That's simply not true. I have similar conversations with her and with all of you guys. You'd be surprised how alike you all are. How many opinions on things you'd agree on." Ginny said. "I'm asking you to at least _try_ to be civil. This is her home, after all. I want you guys to see the girl I grew up with; to see past the prejudice your parents inflicted upon all of you."

"You know we haven't felt that way in a long time, Weasley." Malfoy spoke, a harshness to his words.

"I know that. But she doesn't. I've tried to talk to her, but she's a stubborn Gryffindor, after all." Ginny laughed when Theo snorted.

"Like we can't be stubborn, too?" He said. "I've gotten to know her a little. She seems nice enough." He added. Hermione smiled a little. Theo had been kind and gracious from the moment they re-met. He and Ginny had been out several times before she brought the Slytherin home to meet Hermione. They had dinner and Hermione couldn't find anything harsh or intimidating about him anymore. He had truly blossomed into a good man who seemed to love Ginny.

"If she's anything like she was at school, I'll pass," Pansy said. There was a moment of silence before she yelled, "What? She was insufferable! A freaking know-it-all who made us all look bad."

"It's not her fault you didn't study, Pans." Blaise teased.

"I don't want or need to be friends with a mud-"

"Pansy, enough!" Malfoy hissed. Hermione had enough. She quickly crawled out of bed and slammed her window shut as hard as she could, willing the group below to take a hint and leave. She got back in bed and felt the hot tears start to stream down her face towards her pillow. Almost ten years had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and still, it all burned in her brain like it was yesterday. She turned over, pulled a drawer open for dreamless sleep draught, and took a small sip. She didn't want to take too much and be drowsy for her meeting. Moments later, she succumbed to a restful sleep, not hearing Ginny come in to check on her before slipping back towards her room with Theo.

Hermione woke to a beam of sun hitting her face. She opened her eyes to see it peaking through her curtains and cursed the early hour when she looked on her nightstand for the time. It was only six and her meeting wasn't until nine. Never a fan of procrastination, she decided to just get up for the day and get ready early.

She shoved her feet in slippers that resembled pink Pygmy Puffs and yawned. After she used the loo she pulled on her bathrobe and headed downstairs. The kitchen was spotless, thank goodness. Ginny had enough sense to clean up after her guests. But the witch was amazing at household charms, learning the best from her mother, Molly. Hermione wasn't surprised.

She pulled down a coffee canister from the cupboard and started spooning grounds into the coffee maker on the counter. She pushed the start button and set to work grabbing down a few mugs and creamer. She knew once the smell of coffee wafted upstairs, it would be like a siren call for Ginny and Theo. The coffee pot was about half full when she poured herself a cup, swirling peppermint creamer inside, and took a sip before she went to work making herself scrambled eggs and toast.

"Morning," She heard a drawling voice and jumped, making the spatula she was holding clatter to the floor. Her hand flew to her chest as she spun around to see a grumpy looking Draco Malfoy standing in her kitchen. His gray eyes were droopy and his hair, which had calmed down to a darker blonde over the years, was sticking out at odd angles. He had the slightest dusting of facial hair.

"Malfoy, what the fu-"

"Ah, ah. Language, Granger. It's too early to spar with you." He said and picked up her already made up coffee and started to drink it.

"Hey-!" She started to protest but he held up a finger to silence her as he chugged the beverage. She looked at him with gaping disgust before coming to her senses, picking up the discarded spatula, throwing it in the sink and starting to salvage her eggs with a fresh one. Luckily they hadn't burned. But when she tried one after plating them, they were quite rubbery. The toaster popped. Malfoy grabbed a piece before Hermione could protest and, not even bothering to butter it, popped it in his mouth before walking over to the fireplace.

"Thanks for the breakfast, Granger." He waved a hand with his back to her before stepping into the fireplace and flooing away.

Hermione stared at the mantle in disbelief. Had he stayed the night at her house? Why would he do that? She couldn't get over how insanely rude he'd been. Sure, he'd thanked her, but he had never really _asked_ or let her offer anything!

Her appetite was gone but her need for caffeine was still evident. She made herself a new cup of coffee with a different mug and carried it back up to her room. As she got to her door, Ginny came down the hall rubbing her eyes.

"Was that the Floo?" She asked. Hermione glared.

"Yes. Malfoy just left." She responded. Ginny looked concerned.

"I told him he could stay a few days... why would he leave?"

"Stay a few days?!" Hermione yelled. "Oh my wizard god, Ginny! What did we just talk about last night?!"

"Calm down, 'Mione-"

"Don't you 'Mione' me! He scared me half to death! He drank my coffee! He took my damned toast!" Hermione stomped a foot in indignation. Ginny tried to hold back her laughter at how petty Hermione sounded but she couldn't control it. "Ginevra Weasley! This isn't funny. You know how I feel about him. I didn't need to be ambushed by him not once but twice in my own home!" Hermione walked inside her room, depositing her mug on her vanity and sitting down to start the charms on her hair. Ginny hesitated briefly before following her. She halted behind Hermione, who wouldn't look at her in the mirror's reflection, and sighed. Hermione started fighting her curls with her wand, pointing it at odd angles and stopping to deposit product here and there. She was doing a ruddy job so Ginny placed her hand over Hermione's and made her lower it.

"Let me. I know you like it better when I do it." She said softly and got to work. The two witches sat in silence for a few moments, letting the anger ebb some.

When Ginny was almost finished, she spoke again.

"It wasn't my intention to upset or blindside you. Draco's going through a really hard time right now."

"You call him Draco now?" Hermione asked, venom still lingering in her tone.

"Sometimes," Ginny replied quietly, meeting Hermione's eyes in the mirror. "He's my friend. And I would really like a little effort to understand that."

"But why is he staying here? He has other friends-"

"None that can help him right now. Blaise travels way too much for his job. Theo also works a lot. And don't get me started on Pansy." Ginny rolled her eyes. "She's a bitch, but she's part of the group. We like her in spite of it. But she has always had eyes for Draco and he can't stand her. If he stayed at her house, she'd be all over him. He needs peace and quiet right now. And companionship."

Hermione tried to understand. She really did. It seemed difficult to do, though.

"Tell me what happened. If I know, it might help me understand." Ginny smiled at that but then looked sad.

"His Mother... she died recently," Ginny said and sat next to Hermione to start work on her makeup.

"I think I read that in the Prophet." Hermione said. "It was in there like an afterthought, though, which I found odd."

"Draco didn't want a big deal made. Not after everything that happened. He was her caretaker in her final months. He was with her when she passed on." Ginny spoke reverently, her hand making small strokes with a brush as she applied some light eyeshadow to Hermione's eyes. "After the war, his Father went to Azkaban, as you well know. But Narcissa was spared that sentencing for the role she had in saving Harry's life. I guess karma got to her, though, because she was diagnosed with an incurable illness a few years back. Draco spent a lot of his time looking for a cure but found none. He keeps looking, though, despite her being gone."

"How tragic," Hermione said. She had no idea. She hadn't heard much of what happened to the Malfoy's after the war but really, no one had. They kept a low profile and stayed out of the Prophet as much as they could. This new information stirred sympathy in her gut, though, which is something she was unfamiliar with in regards to the pompous man in question. She didn't want to feel sorry for him.

Ginny finished her work and smiled. "Beautiful." She remarked and stood. "Have you decided what to wear?" When Hermione shook her head, Ginny turned and spotted the few pantsuits strewn over the office chair. "None of those. Come on, Hermione! I know you have better pieces in this closet..." Ginny started to dig through the hangers and settled on a black pencil skirt with a gray blouse and a blazer. Hermione tried to resist, usually hating form-fitting things, but lost her battle with the stubborn ginger.

Hermione dressed quickly, noting the perfection of the loose bun with tendrils framing her face that Ginny had sculpted on her head, and opened the bathroom door to see if Ginny approved.

Not one but two people sat on the edge of her bed. Theo had joined Ginny and they were canoodling when Hermione stepped into her room.

"Not on my bed, Gin." Hermione laughed. The pair looked at Hermione and Ginny wolf whistled.

"Hubba hubba, Granger." Theo winked. Ginny elbowed him half halfheartedly.

"He's not wrong, 'Mione. Hubba hubba, indeed." Ginny said. "You look every bit the successful author."

"You think?" Hermione asked nervously, checking her reflection again. She made sure the blouse was tucked and the blazer was secure.

"Yes, of course. Now, when you get there, it's important to glide into that office with confidence, Granger." Theo said. He was a sports writer for the Prophet so he knew a thing or two about writers and business meetings.

"Glide?" Hermione balked.

"Yes, dammit," Ginny said. "I've seen you glide. Just don't over think it." It was too late, Hermione felt the least confident she possibly could.

"She's doing that thing again..." Theo pointed. Ginny saw what he meant. Hermione was nodding, like she was listening, but started wringing her hands together while looking off into space. It was a nervous tick she developed long ago. Her parents called it the yips. It was something she usually had a hard time coming back from. Ginny wasn't having it, though. She strode over to the brown haired witch and grabbed her around the shoulders.

"Pull yourself together! You're Hermione freaking Granger. You helped take down Voldemort and you fight every day for equal rights in the wizarding community. You were one of the only students who went back for your seventh year at school and you did it all while tutoring first years and dating my stupid brother. I know writing is subjective. I know it's hard to tell when something you write is good or worthy of being read. But you are so talented and even if this deal goes to shit and the publisher chooses not to go ahead with printing your novel, you will be okay. You _will_ try again." The fire in Ginny's eyes scared Hermione out of her stupor. She nodded vigorously and made her mind up to be fierce.

"Okay." She said. Ginny's eyes went wide at how easy it worked.

"Okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Ginny turned and picked up Hermione's bag and the box containing her novel. She handed it to the witch and squared her shoulders. "It is now almost eight thirty. You will apparate to Olympus and get there early, to make the best impression and meet up with that skeezy editor of yours." Hermione nodded and turned, almost robotically, to leave. "Wait!"

"Don't screw up the vibe, Gin!" Hermione warned.

"You need shoes, genius!" She fired back. Hermione looked down at her nyloned feet and sighed. _Yep. Everything is going to go smoothly. I can feel it._

 **Are you all as nervous as I am to see how things go for our Hermione? As writers, we've all felt the same way she does. There's the ever-present feeling of our content not being good enough. It can be tough to have confidence but all we can do is try our best! Please leave a review and let me know how you like the story so far!**


	3. The Olympus Publishing House

**Hey readers! Thanks so much for your patience with this chapter. I got super busy with my best friends birthday stuff this weekend and got swept away in the celebration. This chapter is a tad shorter but I cut it off at an appropriate point. Please let me know how you like it so far by reviewing!**

 **3TheMissMegan**

Hermione apparated several minutes later and took in the pristine publishing house. It was a tall building that had windows the whole way around. The sun reflected off the glass and made it appear almost illuminated. In front of the double doors was a statue of a wizard sitting in an armchair with a witch reading over his shoulder. Every once in a while, they would move. The man would turn a page or the woman would sip from her metallic teacup. Hermione simply loved the atmosphere of the building grounds and it only intensified when she entered the lavish establishment.

The reception area was held in a hall-like area surrounded by white marble. A young witch manned (or wo-manned) the desk with a small piece of plastic in her ear to answer Floo calls privately. There were a few owls waiting on perches. Whether they were the publishers' owls on standby or belonged to someone waiting for a reply to a letter, Hermione wasn't sure. The witch, who had very long, dark brown hair in a high ponytail with very posh bangs smiled at Hermione upon her walking up to the desk.

"Miss Granger. Nice to see you again. You're here for Ms. Bradford, yes?" She asked sweetly.

"It's nice to see you, too, Poppy. And yes, I'm here for Charlotte." Hermione replied. The witch, Poppy, nodded and handed Hermione a guest pass for the building. It was encoded with magic so that no one whom Poppy didn't put in the system herself could get to any upper levels. Hermione thanked her, hung the pass around her neck and made her way to the lifts. She pushed the call button, scanned the pass and the doors dinged to life, allowing her entrance.

The lift was made of glass and showed everything on the passing floors. The center of the building opened up into this magical rainforest where the cafeteria was held. Hermione never got tired of seeing all the colorful birds and green trees pass by on one side while people worked in offices on the other. It was a funny contrast.

Getting out on the 21st floor, she meandered down to Charlotte Bradford's office. She wrapped her knuckle on the door a couple times before hearing a sing-song voice.

"Come in!"

Hermione slipped in and smiled fondly at the exuberant office. Charlotte had bewitched it to seem like they were in Paris. You could see the Eiffel Tower out the window, with people and cars bustling around it. Her office was adorned in light pink and cream broad stripes as an accent. Chanel products littered her shelves and walls, a picture of herself and the famous designer hung right beside a canvas of her two fluffy white Pomeranians. Charlotte always told the story of how she and the designer became bosom friends while performing at a Moulin together in France and how it was she who gave the famous witch her nickname, 'Coco.'

"Hermione, darling!" She extended her arms wide and stood up. "How's my little bird today, hmm?" She asked, eying Hermione's nervous smile.

"Good, I think." Hermione tried to play it cool. Charlotte assessed her only a moment before throwing her flamingo jacket over her shoulders dramatically and walking to Hermione, who was still holding open her office door.

"Come with me, you little fibber. Let's get this over with." She said and paraded down the hall, Hermione on her heels. "We have to go up a few floors to the Fiction Publishers office. He just came back from some bereavement leave so mind your manners. Not like you wouldn't, though, you little dove." Charlotte prattled on as she called for the lift and then stepped in behind Hermione and selected the level she needed. "He is quite the looker, now that I think on it. Just your type. Very successful. Is great with children, although doesn't have any of his own. Don't go making googly eyes at him, though, because I saw him first!" She sing-songed jokingly. She was always trying to get Hermione to join in on her weekend escapades. The younger witch simply smiled and let Charlotte carry the conversation like she usually did. It was easy and filled her with humor at how lively the woman was. Charlotte could be serious, too, when she wanted to. She could pick up on social cues quicker than a bowtruckle could untie your shoes and loved smarting off to people who tried to shame her wild behaviors.

They exited the lift and strolled through a hallway lined with only a couple of office doors. This floor was quiet, not busy like the editors' floors. Hermione assumed it must be for publishers only. They were important people, after all. Each owning a portion of Olympus. It made sense that they'd want more privacy for such important work.

Charlotte knocked twice on a frosted glass door. Hermione couldn't see anything through it but it opened on its own a second later. Charlotte strolled in, Hermione following. She immediately drank in the rich mahogany furniture and navy blue linens of the curtains and chairs. There were rows of bookshelves, neatly stacked with all manner of novels, textbooks, cookbooks, biographies, autobiographies, spell books, potion books, literature, poetry, art manuals... the list went on as she gaped at the wall of volumes. They were all sorted and in order, somehow, but Hermione couldn't pinpoint the exact process. She did notice, though, that the authors seemed to be magical and muggle alike.

"Of course, it would be the books she notices first." A familiar voice drawled. Hermione jumped, startled once more, and glared over her shoulder at Draco Malfoy, who was sitting behind a huge desk, his hands steepled by his mouth. He looked much different than he had earlier. He wore a crisp gray three-piece suit with a white collared shirt. The chain of a timepiece glittered against his waist. His hair was no longer mussed and his stubble had been shaved away. He looked every bit the businessman.

Hermione glanced at the nameplate on the desk and balked, a strangled sound making its way unintentionally out of her mouth.

"You're a publisher here?" She asked, eying the nameplate again. It was a gold plate on a wooden holder that read in a neat and formal script: _Draco Malfoy – Head Fiction Publisher – Olympus Publishing House_.

"Obviously, Granger." He said simply.

"I can't do this," She said before turning away from him. Charlotte stopped her by the door in a flurry of pink feathers and smoke from her cigarette holder.

"Hermione, wait," She said seriously. "You can't back out now. This meeting has been in the works for a while. Ginny said-"

"Ginny said?!" Hermione rounded on Charlotte and then cast a scathing look Malfoy's way. He rolled his eyes, unphased by her dramatics.

"Ginny wanted to make me aware that you knew Mr. Malfoy the moment she heard I approached you. She wanted me to know your history so I wouldn't put you in unnecessary situations with him. She didn't want to hurt your chances of achieving your dream to be a writer but knew you wouldn't want to work with him and-"

"I could have gone to any other publishing house in the city," Hermione said firmly. "As my friend, you should have had my best interests. Do you think, for a second, that Malfoy will publish my book?" She pointed accusingly. "He despises me and would never give me a fair assessment!"

"That's enough, Granger," Malfoy raised his voice slightly to get her attention. When she looked his way, he shook his head. "That's quite enough of that. It's my turn to speak, please." He said more quietly and gestured for them to take a seat in the chairs opposite of him. Hermione hesitated but made her way over, sitting with a big sigh, like a child. Charlotte took the seat next to her, glancing her way for some sort of metaphorical life raft, which Hermione neglected to provide by not looking at the witch. Instead, she looked off to the side, not making eye contact with either of the guilty parties.

"Hermione, please," Charlotte begged.

"Ms. Bradford, allow me," Malfoy said and looked at Hermione. "I became aware you had submitted a possible first draft of your book at this publishing house over a year ago after you met Charlotte Bradford. She came to me, excited about your prospects, and gave me the gist of the story you'd written. The plot was sound and seemed like a good idea so I green-lit the project." Hermione didn't know that he was basically the person who took a leap of faith for her story. She didn't want to show her surprise, though. Malfoy continued on.

"I don't deal much with the molding of an authors work," He said. Hermione's stomach leaped in excitement at being referred to as an author. "So I had no hand in how you shaped any of what was written or any of Ms. Bradford's ideas or edits. That was all her. In fact, I haven't even read one draft. I only know what was pitched to me and that you two have been hard at work to perfect it over the last year."

"You haven't read it, at all?" Hermione felt dumbfounded.

"No. Not for lack of interest. I was fairly curious to read what you were going to do with it. But I had some... familial obligations that kept me from work. Ms. Bradford is an impeccable senior editor. The best of the best. I entrusted the department to her while I took care of business at home." He assured. Hermione remembered then what Ginny told her earlier about his mother passing away. She felt a small pang of that no good sympathy creep up her spine and settle in her head, mucking things up. Malfoy waited patiently for her to process the information before she gestured with her hand.

"Go on." She said.

"This meeting is more a formal meeting of minds. I wanted to get your potential final copy and read it through fully before making a decision. And trust me when I say that any decision I come to does not reflect on any personal crap we had in the past. This is strictly business." He said. Hermione felt her chest tighten and she clung to the box in her lap.

This book had been her labor of love for the better part of two years. The characters were like her children and the plot was like her lifeline. She had poured countless hours of her life into it. To think of someone like Malfoy reading it and tearing it apart... her chest constricted again and she felt the beginnings of an anxiety attack.

It was something she suffered through more frequently in her childhood but she still found herself going through a couple each year if she was overworked or was having a really bad day. Part of her life was over thinking everything. And that didn't help the attacks by any means.

"Hermione, does that sound okay to you?" Charlotte interrupted her thought process.

"Huh?"

"Merlin, Granger, did you hear anything I just said or are you playing dumb on purpose?" Malfoy asked, sounding aggravated.

"She's breathing kind of heavy, Mr. Malfoy..." Hermione heard Charlotte mutter. She couldn't look at either of them as their voices sounded farther away by the minute. She felt her chest heaving but couldn't slow it down. She closed her eyes, trying to count the way she was taught to. The numbers were all jumbled, though. She couldn't focus. Her head began to throb and she grabbed it, not feeling the box of papers fall precariously to the floor.

What seemed like an eternity later, Hermione felt hands on her upper arms that squeezed firmly and shook lightly.

"Granger? Can you hear me?" Malfoy asked, sounding like he was under water. Hermione chanced a look and saw his face was close to hers as he held her arms. She tried to flinch away but he held her steadfast as he sounded off numbers, counting to ten. She watched his lips as he mouthed each number. She tried to copy him but shook her head in frustration when nothing happened. Malfoy mimicked deep breathing and she copied him, trying to breathe through her nose and out her mouth. Finally, her heart rate started to slow down. Her hearing came back gradually. She kept breathing deeply as Charlotte rose to get her a glass of water. Malfoy didn't let go as he waited for her to calm down.

Slowly, she dropped her hands from her head and folded them neatly in her lap.

"Thank you." She said in a small voice. "How did you know to do that?"

"My Mother used to get them." He said simply and let her go. He stayed crouched to pick up the box with her novel in it. Only a few papers fluttered out and were easy to fix back into the stack. He closed the lid and looked at her questioningly.

"Yeah, yes. You can read it." She said. He nodded and set it aside, then leaned against his desk to study her.

"How long have those been happening?" He asked, appearing passive. She felt uncomfortable talking about such personal things with him but shrugged.

"Since I was a child. I haven't had one in some time, though." She replied. "Why?"

"Curiosity." He stated. "I did an internship at St. Mungo's several years back." That surprised Hermione but she didn't comment.

"What part of our conversation triggered it?" He inquired. The tidbit about St. Mungo's definitely made sense now. He spoke very clinical. Much more so than when they were children.

"The part about you reading my book." She opted for honesty. His jaw clenched, the only sign of what she had said made him upset.

"Listen, Granger, I'll give your book a fair read. I honestly will."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" She asked. She glared up at him but he didn't shrink back from her harsh gaze. He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged.

"You don't have to believe anything, I suppose. But my capabilities and reputation in this industry should ring out more truthful than anything I could say to you. I've worked hard to get where I am. When I hear a good idea, I snap it up and let the editors run with it. I know talent when I read it and can suss out duds in an instant. I told you I thought your novels' storyline was sound. I meant it. If you were able to rise to the occasion, I'm glad. That will mean less wasted time and money on my part for having Ms. Bradford work with you all these months." He said. As if on cue, Charlotte came back into the office with a tray of drinks.

"Listen, darling, I got you everything you could want. Water-chilled, room temp, sparkling, on the rocks, with lemon, with lime..." She levitated the tray in front of Hermione and the girl laughed, loudly, at how ridiculous the older witch was.

"You are so over the top, Charlotte!" Hermione exclaimed. "You can't even get a simple glass of water for a girl suffering an anxiety attack." Charlotte grinned.

"I could have but you're my dearest friend, dove. I needed options for my golden goose!" Charlotte pointed to a glass in the middle. It had a lemon twist in it. "That one is a vodka tonic, dear. I wasn't sure what sort of room I'd be entering into." Her eyes gleamed and she winked. Hermione picked up the center glass, knocked back the entire drink, then stood up, feeling only slightly wobbly in her high heels. She smoothed her skirt down and swung her bag on her shoulder.

"Well, _Mr. Malfoy_ , it's been... well... not a pleasure but... it was certainly some sort of weird feeling to speak with you again. Especially when you're not stealing my coffee and toast," She extended her hand and Malfoy stood to take it, shaking her hand briefly and smirking that cocky way only he knew how. "Do read my novel and then owl me when you're finished and would like a meeting."

"Of course, _Miss Granger_." He emphasized her formally as well.

"And don't take too much time. I'm not sure how quick your reading is these days, but I won't wait a great length of time simply because you read too slow." Hermione bit out while walking to the door.

"I'm an excellently quick reader, Granger! You forget who came in second in our class at Hogwarts!" He retorted. Hermione turned back to him, a smug look on her face.

"I never forgot that. I was just hoping you hadn't." She said snarkily and for the first time since they re-met, his facade fell and he looked completely taken aback at her dig, knowing full well she finished first.


	4. A Party Worth Apparating To

Hermione apparated home in a mild fury. She was still convinced Malfoy wouldn't give her book much of a chance and the anxiety was ready to eat her alive at the prospect that he could already be reading it. But her small triumph before leaving his office simmered the fire within her about everything else. That is until she spotted her red-haired roommate in the living room of their flat.

"You're back!" Ginny exclaimed. "How'd it go?" She jumped up from polishing her broom handle for the millionth time since the offseason started and looked at Hermione with excited, yet expectant eyes.

"I'm curious, Gin... why would you ever think I'd want my book, my precious baby, in the hands of Draco Malfoy?" Hermione asked, a deathly dark tone erupting from the pit of her stomach. Ginny raised her hands in surrender.

"Let me explain-"

"You don't have to. Charlotte already explained everything there is to know. I had a full-on anxiety attack, Ginny," Hermione threw her hands up. "In his fucking office! In front of him!" Ginny flinched.

"I'm sorry! I thought you could handle it! My plan was to try to get you both to be friends!" She defended.

"Oh! Really? Was that your master plan, Gin? I trusted you to be honest with me. We've been friends for almost fifteen years!" Hermione unceremoniously kicked off her heels, not caring where they ended up and rushed for liquid courage in the kitchen. Ginny followed her and stopped her short of the wine rack.

"Hermione, come on! He's literally the _best_ fiction publisher in London! I had already thought of throwing your name to him before you even got picked up. He and I had been recently hanging out because of Theo and I getting together and thought it'd be a good opportunity for you. The fact that Charlotte met you first and wanted your story was like a sign!" Ginny said like it was the most logical thing she could think of. "Then the stuff with his Mother came up and you got so absorbed with Charlotte and the Ministry... I intended on you guys getting to know another slowly so you'd trust him but life just got in the way!"

"I felt ambushed, Gin." Hermione's voice wavered, tears springing to her eyes. "Last night and today. You know how I need to be over-prepared for everything. You threw me the worst curveball imaginable. The boy who bullied me and stood by while I was being tortured in his own house. By his family, no less... It's the worst possible scenario for me. And now you've told him he can stay here a few days while he deals with his own trauma..." Hermione flicked away the moisture from her face and her resolve returned. "What about _my_ trauma, Gin? You don't even think of how your actions hurt others." She finished and walked upstairs without another word, leaving Ginny speechless.

Hermione quickly took off her blazer and nylons and summoned Winnie through her window. The owl hooted happily and waited patiently for her master to draft a few letters. One for Harry. One for Ron and Lavender. One for Luna and Rolf. And one for Neville. It was a Friday night, after all, and she hadn't seen a lot of them in some time. After all the drama of the day, she really wanted to spend time with her friends. She just hoped everyone could get away for the evening.

"Here you go, girl," Hermione muttered lovingly. "Sorry for there are so many at once. But I miss my friends." The owl hooted, seeming to understand, and flew away once the letters were secured. Hermione watched her fly away in the direction of Harry's house. He lived the closest if he even happened to be there. Winnie was a quick flyer and would make short work of delivering her letters.

Not knowing what to do next, she opted for a quick shower and a more comfortable change of clothes. She wiped the thick layer of makeup off her face and washed out the potions applied to calm her hair down. When she put on a pair of black leggings and a long t-shirt, she finally felt relaxed and in her element. She decided to let her hair air dry for once, frizz be damned and walked back into her room. She quickly discovered letters of reply from both Harry and Ron already, confirming they'd be at her house around six, along with Lavender. Hermione internally groaned, still not one hundred percent sold on the girl but determined to make it work.

She struggled with whether or not she should let Ginny know about her intended gathering. She opted for subtle honesty, deciding not to be petty. She slipped on a pair of rain boots, thinking it might pour by the look of London's standard gray April sky, and tucked a long black scarf around her neck before heading downstairs. Ginny was still down there, looking guilty. She shot Hermione a look of curiosity.

"Where you headed?" She asked cautiously. Hermione grabbed up her keys and purse.

"Out."

"Out where?" Ginny persisted, standing up.

"I need some things at the market for tonight," Hermione replied shortly.

"What's happening tonight?" Ginny asked, confused now. Hermione Granger was not an elusive person.

"Having friends over, hope you don't mind." She said, jotting down a list of snack foods and booze.

"Considering the fact that your friends are my friends, too, obviously I don't mind, but-"

"Great, thanks. I'll be back soon." With that, Hermione apparated away.

She felt bad for being so short with Ginny, she really did. But she also got mad at herself for feeling guilty when Ginny was the one who had been lying to her this whole time. Hermione couldn't think about it any longer. She had shopping to do!

She walked around the block from the apparation point to the market and entered quickly, hoping to miss the rain. Grabbing a cart, she walked through the entrance and tried to rush through the store. She was picking out wines when she heard her name being called.

"Hermione!" A familiar lilt said. She turned and saw Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

"Seamus! Dean! What are you doing here?" She asked, smiling at the two friends.

"What else, Granger? Shopping." Seamus said, holding up a bottle of booze.

"You two partying tonight or what?" She laughed and Dean held up two more bottles.

"What do you think? It's Friday!" He said.

"What a coincidence, I was trying to get a hold of some people to hang out tonight. Harry and Ron will be there. Please, come through! I know they'd love to see you."

"Like old times, huh Granger?"

"Yes, but with way less drama, I think," Hermione said, remembering all their years at school together. Seamus nodded.

"That sounds like fun. Owl us the address and time. There'll be more where this came from." Seamus said, holding up his bottle again.

"Alright! See you guys tonight." Hermione said and walked over to check out her items, feeling much lighter than before.

A few hours later, things were starting to come together. Hermione cleaned the whole house, making it warm and inviting for her guests, despite the party being out back. Hermione liked cooking so she picked up supplies to make skewers. She marinated steak and chicken, cut up veggies and pineapples, then constructed them all on the skewer sticks and set them on a platter in the fridge to await being grilled. She also set out a large ice bucket the size of a muggle kiddie pool and filled it with bottles of butterbeer, mead, and ale. She set the fire pit ablaze and cast an umbrella charm over the backyard to guard against the impending rain.

Ginny wasn't home when she came back from the market and hadn't been back since. Hermione was grateful, at first, but it felt so weird throwing a shindig without her helping out. This was the sort of thing she loved. Hermione hoped she'd be back soon. It was a little after five and people would be arriving any minute. She received owls from the others that they'd be able to come, too, so it'd be a full house.

Hermione heard a crack of someone apparating just as she was taking the platter of skewers out of the fridge. A second later, the doorbell rang. She set the tray down and skipped to the door, excited to see her friends. When she opened it, though, her hopeful face deflated.

"Malfoy." She forgot, in her excitement, that Ginny had said he could stay in their guest room for a few days. Although, why a successful, wealthy person needed to stay at a friends house and couldn't get a hotel room was beyond her comprehension. She supposed she just wasn't privy to the reasoning. Ginny said he needed to be around people right now. Well, he'd get to be. He just wouldn't be happy with who. He gave her a slight nod of greeting and she stepped aside, gesturing him in.

"Thanks, Granger." He mumbled and walked inside.

He made his way to the center of the cozy living space, Hermione shutting the front door behind him. He stopped and turned to her, looking uncertain. She felt the same way he looked and tugged on the sleeves of the dress she had changed into. It wasn't anything too fancy, just a long sleeve, black sweater dress with some tights and boots. But the way Malfoy seemed to look at her momentarily with male appreciation had her both confused and convinced she should go change.

"Listen, Granger..." He started. "I know this isn't an ideal situation. But this is your home as well as Weasley's. If you want me to leave, I will." He said sincerely. Hermione hadn't been expecting that. She shrugged nonchalantly and looked over to the platter of food.

"Ginny said you can stay so... maybe at least make yourself useful while you're here. Do you know how to use a grill?" She had no idea why she was asking that. It just popped out. She had this opportunity to tell him to get out and she was insinuating he should stay and cook the skewers?

"Um, yes. I am a man, Granger." He stated obviously.

"Oh?" Hermione smirked. "I hadn't noticed." She quipped and walked into the kitchen to grab the tray. "I have friends coming over tonight so I was planning on grilling for everyone. If you want to stay here, you will be nothing but polite to everyone. I'm not saying you need to be chummy, because honestly, no one would ever expect that of you, but you should be civil."

"I know how to treat guests." He said, struggling not to raise his voice. "I'm not an invalid."

"No, but you're not accustomed to Gryffindor parties, either." She said and offered him the tray. "If you'd rather not be nice, you can always hibernate in the guest room." Malfoy paused a beat, looking like he was really considering the second option. But he took the tray and cleared his throat.

"I'm not... used to being around your lot but... I will try. That's all I can promise." He said before turning and walking out the back door to the grill. Hermione hesitated before fetching the trays full of sliced fruits and veggies and going outside as well, levitating the trays as she went.

She tapped one of the bulbs to the muggle lights, illuminating the whole tree, then set the tiki torches ablaze that encircled the area.

"Looks nice," Malfoy mentioned, pointing to the lights. He was adjusting the temperature on the bbq, trying not to look at her.

"Thanks. I wanted it to be festive. I haven't seen anyone in quite some time."

"Why's that?" He asked, setting a row of skewers on the grill. Hermione paused a beat, thinking it was obvious. He looked her way when she didn't answer his question and quirked an eyebrow.

"I've been rather busy, I suppose." She said and got to work setting out paper plates and cups.

"Ah yes, the book." He said.

"And how's that going, by the way?" She asked, refusing to look his way.

"I just received it this morning, Granger, give a man a break. You are not the only potential author at Olympus." He laughed. Hermione harrumphed and Malfoy shook his head. "So eager." He added.

"Let's not talk about it, okay?" She bit out and was about to walk back in the house when a loud crack sounded off to her right. She looked over and saw Harry standing beyond the fire pit, his hands full of flowers and a bottle of wine. His smile faltered, however, when he noticed Malfoy. He quickly dropped the bouquet and reached for his wand. Malfoy physically flinched, looking as though he was fighting against every instinct not draw out his own. Hermione held her hands up.

"Harry, stop. Malfoy is a guest." She said sternly. Malfoy raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Harry looked angry.

"So it's true, then? You and Ginny are running with Slytherin's these days?" He asked, his voice gravelly.

"No! Well, yes Ginny is but I'm not..." She sputtered but threw up her hands. "I said he's a guest, Harry. Respect my guests or go home. I've basically told Malfoy the same thing!"

"Not twenty minutes ago, in fact," Malfoy mentioned and turned his attention back to the food. Harry hesitated, looking from Malfoy to Hermione, indecision apparent. Hermione sighed and walked over to his side, taking the wine and giving him her best smile.

"Please? Be nice." She pleaded, wondering to herself why she was making such an effort for the ex Death Eater. She chalked it up to her love for Ginny and how the girl begged them both to be friends. It seemed so important to her. Harry's brow softened and his scowl dissipated. He plucked the flowers off the ground and handed them to her with a peck on her cheek.

"Sorry, 'Mione. I just hate that guy." He said. "And I'm genuinely surprised as to why he's here."

"I know. It's a weird situation. One I'll explain later, alright? For now, will you help me bring out the rest of the wine bottles while I grab a vase?" He nodded and followed her inside, shooting daggers at Malfoy as they passed by.

"Are you going to be like this when Ginny gets home, too? She'll most likely have Theo with her." Hermione said, getting a vase down from a cupboard. Harry looked pained, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose.

"I'll try not to." He said. Hermione turned on the faucet, filling the vase, then wedged the large bouquet inside, shuffling the flowers around to make them look nice.

"These are beautiful Harry, thank you. You didn't have to get these for me." She smiled. Harry smiled back and shrugged.

"You're my best girl these days. I couldn't come to your home empty-handed. Especially when we haven't seen much of each other in months." Hermione beamed and touched his shoulder as she passed by him to place the flowers on the table outside. He picked up the wine bottles and followed her again. "How'd that meeting go, by the way?" He asked. Instead of setting the vase down gently, she nearly tipped it over.

"Easy there, Granger," Malfoy said, setting half a dozen cooked skewers on the table next to her. She glared at him but said nothing.

"Didn't you have that meeting this morning?" Harry asked again. Hermione nodded, looking surly. He frowned. "It went that bad?"

"No, it's just..." She shot Malfoy another glare. "I wasn't as prepared as I anticipated."

"I doubt that." Harry teased. Another crack distracted the conversation. Luna and Rolf walked up to the small group.

"Luna! Rolf! How are you guys?" Hermione hugged the petite blonde and patted Rolf on the shoulder.

"Splendid, Hermione," Luna said and looked at Malfoy with mild interest. Rolf shook Harry's hand and then noticed the tall man at the grill.

"Malfoy. What in Merlin's beard are you doing here?" Rolf asked.

"Scamander, nice to see you again." Malfoy shook his hand as well. "Just dropped by to make sure Granger didn't burn the food." Hermione was about to argue that she was far from incompetent but Rolf rolled with laughter.

"You two know one another?" Harry asked, looking uncomfortable.

"He fought very hard on Rolf's behalf about a book he wrote." Luna chimed in. "The publisher in charge of the Travel category sent Rolf to Malfoy thinking his book was all fictional nonsense. As if you could make up half the creatures he wrote about."

"Too right, my dear." Rolf put an arm around Luna's shoulders. Hermione stifled a small giggle. Malfoy gave the couple an amused expression.

"It's not Barnaby's fault how eccentric you two are, Scamander. It's hard to take you seriously sometimes." Malfoy laughed.

"You do have a point there, Malfoy," Harry said and they all laughed. Hermione felt like she was in the twilight zone. Did Harry just agree with Malfoy about something?

Another crack and Neville arrived carrying a large pot with soil practically to the top. "Hey mates," He greeted jovially before stopping dead in his tracks. Malfoy turned back to the grill and cleared his throat.

"Longbottom." He said a strained greeting.

"Malfoy?"

"Hey, Nev! What do you have there?" Hermione thought it best to distract him. He looked blankly for a moment but turned his attention back to the pot.

"Well, erm, I hadn't seen you in a while. I thought I'd bring you something. Sort of a hostess gift, I suppose." He said and gestured towards the soil. "I planted Everlasting Strawberries for you in there. They should grow and provide fruit by June."

"Everlasting?" Hermione asked curiously. "I've read about the theory of growing everlasting produce but I wasn't aware they were implementing it."

"A Botanist I've been seeing said they've only perfected the genetics of everlasting berries for now. Usually, strawberries are seasonal but these will continue to bloom and blossom fruit once the last berry is picked off the vine. You can keep them inside or out, it doesn't matter. They'll grow no matter the temperature." He said, rubbing a hand behind his head. "They're your favorite, right?"

"Yes, Neville! Thank you!" Hermione flung her arms around him quickly and then tried to pick up the pot. It was way too heavy, though, and she struggled fruitlessly.

"I've got it, Hermione," Neville said and seemed to pick it up with ease. "Where do you want it?"

"By the back door, thanks!" Hermione said excitedly. He nodded and walked that way.

"Got some crazy muscle mass now, eh Longbottom?" Malfoy asked, looking genuinely surprised by his strength. Neville didn't say anything to that and opted to ignore him.

"That's a perfect gift, Neville. You know how delicious Hermione's strawberry pie is. She'll be able to make it for us all year now." Harry said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Make your own damn pie, Harry Potter." Hermione chided. The others laughed at her indignant tone, knowing what a strong-willed feminist she was.

"You know Ron and his family will expect you to come around with pie every Sunday. You're just going to have to get used to the idea." Harry said.

Another crack.

"Speak of the devil, hey mate!" Harry called as Ron and Lavender walked up hand in hand. George was also with them and Hermione squeaked giddily, running up and throwing her arms around him.

"You came!" She gushed.

"No thanks to you!" He teased, swinging her around in circles. "Lost my invite in the mail, Granger?"

"You're always too busy! You always blow off our get-togethers!" Hermione exclaimed. "Stop spinning! I'm getting dizzy!" She laughed and he set her on her feet, holding her shoulders for support.

"Wotcher there, Herms! It's not time to fall over yet! That part comes later!" He waggled his eyebrows and looked over to the table laden with food and drink. "Speaking of," He beelined for one of the bottles of beer, charmed the top off and took a long pull. He smacked his lips and nodded to Malfoy. "Hey, Malfoy." He said in the most friendly tone. Hermione and Harry exchanged strange looks.

"Hey, Weasley. Not too hung over from last night, are you? How late did you end up staying?" Malfoy asked, a knowing look of amusement on his face. George scoffed.

"I can hold my own, mate. I was only there an hour or so after you lot left. Ronnie was able to apparate us home before I got too wasted." George laughed.

"Hey 'Mione." Ron pulled Hermione's attention away from the confusing encounter.

"I'm sorry, are you lot friends with Malfoy now?" She asked. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Friends is too strong a word, Granger." Malfoy laughed.

"Well, I don't know, mate. I thought we had something special." George faked a simper and Malfoy laughed. Like really laughed. It was the happiest and most comfortable Hermione had seen him since... well ever. And it was because of her own friends...

"Don't worry, our secret love affair can continue. Just don't advertise to the others." Malfoy joked and set out the last of the skewers. "Need me to do anything else for you, Granger? Dust a shelf, maybe?" Hermione stared at him point blank and crossed her arms.

"I might have you take out the bins later, now that you mention it. You'll need to earn your keep while you're staying here." Seven sets of eyes flicked back and forth awkwardly between the two.

"He's staying here? Why?" Harry asked, sounding stern.

"None of your business, Potter," Malfoy said. "And don't worry Granger, the bins won't be a problem," Hermione smirked at him. She hadn't really been serious but the fact that he was bending over backward to stay in her home amused her. Malfoy shook his head at her obvious enjoyment and grabbed a beer before sitting down on one of the lawn chairs around the fire pit. The conversation had died, creating an awkward tension.

"I'm far too sober, I think," Hermione muttered.

"Me too." Lavender agreed. "Wine?" Hermione nodded and led them over to where the cups and drinks all were.

"Hey Hermione, did you de-gnome your garden?" Luna asked suddenly. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, finally! They were pulling up all my potion herbs! I grew so furious!" She replied, handing Lavender a glass of wine and then pouring one for herself.

"Oh. How sad. Did you know if they bite you, it's good luck?" Luna mused.

"You say that every time we talk about them. But honestly, I don't hold much stock in that. I mean, when I first attempted to lure the buggers out, I was bitten often. I definitely don't see proof in being any sort of lucky." Hermione said matter of factly.

"How did you do it? I've been trying to get rid of ours for weeks." Lavender asked, patting Ron's thigh as she sat next to him.

"Did you guys get a place?" Hermione asked. Lavender nodded furiously.

"Yes! A couple of months ago!"

"You didn't tell me!"

"You've been off the grid, 'Mione. You weren't even responding to owls for a while there." Ron said.

"I've been so busy." Hermione lamented. "I'm sorry!"

"It's okay. Just please tell me your gnome secrets!" Lavender nudged.

"It was fairly straightforward when I thought about it," Hermione said. "I-"

"She drugged them." A feminine voice said. Everyone turned to see Ginny and Theo walk out the back door towards everyone. They were closely followed by Blaise and Pansy.

"You're turning to drugs these days, Granger?" Malfoy asked. Hermione's attention reverted back to him and she shook her head.

"Not exactly. I used Valerian Root to put them to sleep. Then I had an exterminator pick them up." Hermione said, distracted by the newcomers.

"Ah, wise choice," Neville said.

"You didn't tell me you were throwing a whole party, 'Mione!" Ginny said. "I would have brought home more booze for everyone."

A loud crack went off and Seamus and Dean strode forward carrying several bottles of alcohol.

"Oi! The party has arrived!" Seamus called out and all the Gryffindors yelled out their excitement.

"Hey, mates!" Harry clapped them each on the back and smiled bigger than Hermione had seen in a while. "How've you two been?"

"Not bad, Harry! Just tearin' up the wizarding underworld, as per usual." Dean said, setting the booze on the table.

"You must not be getting into too much trouble. I haven't had to arrest either of you in a while." Harry laughed and they followed suit.

"You arrest your own friends, Potter?" Blaise asked.

"When they've broken the law, sure," Harry responded, shrugging. "Comes with the territory."

"Every arrest is like a notch on my belt! It really makes the gals go wild!" Seamus said and started pouring shots in a bunch of tiny glasses he conjured. "C'mon everyone! We're doing shots!" There was a thunderous roar of approval and everyone grabbed up a glass. Even Pansy joined in, albeit grudgingly, it seemed.

"To Hermione! We couldn't get drunk tonight without you!" Seamus raised his glass to her and knocked it back. Everyone yelled in agreement and knocked their own back.

"Merlin help me," Hermione muttered and drank her own. The firewhiskey burned all the way down. She really hated the stuff but couldn't reject a shot dedicated to her. That was just rude.

 **How do you think the rest of the party will go? Without a hitch or with some predictable drama? Let's be honest, it's always a gamble in a room (or backyard) full of Gryffindor's and Slytherin's. (And a Ravenclaw, don't think I forgot Luna.) Please don't forget to review and let me know what you love about the story so far.**

 **3TheMissMegan**


	5. Dare or Truth?

A short time later, everyone was eating and conversing. Malfoy had gone over to chat with his Slytherin friends near the back door, looking more comfortable. Hermione was sitting near the fire, her legs crossed, enjoying the chattering around her. Ginny sat next to her after a time and stared into the fire.

"Are you still angry with me?" She asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't want to be."

"I really am sorry," Ginny said. Hermione smiled at her after a moment and grabbed her hand.

"Okay, Gin. I forgive you." She went easy on the girl. They had been best friends long enough to know when she was being sincere. Ginny gave her a side hug and sighed.

"So, Draco says you gave him your blessing to stay here. I'm glad."

"Blessing? It was more or less an exchange of terms. He helps out around the house while he's here." Hermione said. Ginny laughed.

"I'm sure he liked that."

"He doesn't seem to be complaining much," Hermione said.

"I think you intimidate him." Ginny countered.

"Bullocks." Malfoy suddenly piped in and sat in the chair on Hermione's other side. "I just know what battles to concede to ensure household harmony."

"It's good to know you're that clever because I won't be here to referee you two," Ginny said.

"What?" Hermione sputtered.

"Coachella, love. Theo and I leave tomorrow, remember?"

"You two still going to that American cesspool?" Malfoy asked.

"Circe, I forgot. She's been trying on outfits for it all week long, expecting me to pass judgment." Hermione complained.

"Really, Weasley? You'd trust Granger's fashion sense over mine? I'm hurt. You should've really asked me-" Malfoy was cut off by Theo wrapping an arm around Ginny and casting him a death glare.

"Stop hitting on my girlfriend, Malfoy." He half-joked. Malfoy shrugged.

"Touche, Nott." Malfoy took a swig of his beer and motioned to Hermione with the bottle. "You're not going?"

"Um, no. I wouldn't be caught dead shaking my half-naked ass to dubstep in the deserts of America." She said with conviction.

"So where _would_ you shake your half-naked ass then, Granger?" George asked, already tipsy. Everyone laughed. Hermione turned a few different shades of pink but recovered quickly.

"Probably in my bedroom," Hermione said, staring him down with a facetious look in her eyes. "Lights dimmed. Music loud. A drawer full of lingerie just _begging_ to be worn while I dance it out on my bed..." Ginny spit out the beer she'd been drinking and laughed at the boldness of her usually prudish friend and the looks she was eliciting from the men. Even Malfoy looked pleasantly at Hermione, really _seeing_ her for the first time. George in particular licked his lips and then Ginny recoiled.

"Change the subject, please! I cannot watch my brother get turned on, thank you very much!" She pleaded. Everyone laughed again.

"Let's play a game, then." Dean suggested.

"Yes! Brilliant idea, mate. Let's play truth or dare!" Seamus said.

"What're we, twelve?" Pansy asked sarcastically.

"We could be for one night, why not? It's not like any of us had proper childhoods, is it? I'll start!" George announced, standing up too quickly and stumbling slightly. He looked around and pointed at Rolf. "Alright then, Rolf! Truth or dare?"

"Dare." He spoke clearly. Everyone whistled low. That was a gutsy move, considering the darer was George.

"Shouldn't we have rules or something?" Hermione asked, knowing George's track record.

"Psh! No, Granger! We're adults now!" Blaise said.

"I thought we were twelve for the night?" Harry joked. He knew Hermione's penchant for rules.

"Alrighty, no harming anyone or breaking the law." George said with finger quotes. "You Slytherin's got that?" He joked and Theo barked out a laugh. Everyone agreed and George continued. "Rolf, I dare you to bring me a shell back from a beach near Azkaban."

"Definitely illegal, George. Pick something else." Harry said.

"You're no fun since you became an Auror." George pouted.

"Was he ever fun?" Pansy asked.

"You should hear stories..." Ron said. "Right, mate?" Harry grinned.

"We _did_ get into some trouble back then."

"Rolf, I dare you to capture a gnome and re-deposit it back into Hermione's garden." George suddenly said.

"No!" Hermione protested.

"Sorry, Hermione." Rolf shrugged apologetically and disapparated away. Hermione turned on George.

"I swear George Weasley, if he succeeds-"

"Oh, he will," Luna said.

"-you're going to be the one to capture it later!" Hermione pointed at the man and he shrugged.

"Worth it to see your angry face. It's so beautiful, like a forgotten memory!" He jokingly lamented. Rolf popped back a moment later with three gnomes in his arms, trying to bite him. As a magizoologist, though, he thought to grab gloves.

"That was fast!" George said. "Even for you. Extra points for the multiples!"

"I grabbed them from Lavender's garden," Rolf said, smirking.

"My hero!" Lavender raised her glass his way.

"This really isn't fair." Hermione pouted as Rolf let the gnomes go and they scurried towards her tomatoes. "You better not eat my tomatoes you greedy little bastards!" She yelled as she got up to chase them away. "Go next door! Mrs. Prewitt has a damn cherry tree!"

"Come back, Hermione! I want you to go next. It'll take your mind off of the little devils." Rolf said. Hermione sighed, defeated, and turned back to the group of people.

"Truth, I guess." She said.

"You're no fun," Ron said.

"So I've been told." She replied.

"Okay, truth." Rolf took pity on her. " _Do you really have a drawer full of lingerie upstairs_?" He asked snidely. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as she opened her mouth to answer. Her face red, she merely nodded and covered her face, embarrassment flooding her features. Everyone whooped out their scandalous noises and implications.

"I bet it's all very rated G so let's move on." Pansy said.

"Fine. Truth or dare, Pansy?" Hermione asked. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Truth."

"Why did you come here and decide to participate if you were just going to act unpleasant like you're above us all?" Hermione asked. Pansy scowled.

"What kind of question is that?"

"One I'm interested in knowing, honestly," Malfoy said bitterly, taking a long pull from his beer. Pansy turned to him with a look of disdain before she answered.

"I was bored. There. Happy?" She spat. Hermione raised her shoulders.

"If it's the truth, sure."

"Well, it is," Pansy said. She turned to Malfoy, looking to get him back. "Okay, Draco, truth or dare?"

"Dare." He said immediately.

"There's that Slytherin spirit!" Blaise said.

"I dare you to investigate if Granger's telling the truth about her drawer of naughty attire," Pansy said quickly, reveling in the discomfort of Hermione and the glare Malfoy shot her.

"Why is everyone so interested in my intimates?" Hermione blushed.

"You brought them up, Hermione." Ginny teased.

"Fine." Malfoy's voice rang out over the giggles. Almost everyone whooped and clapped. Harry and Ron exchanged looks of discomfort like they had swallowed something bad. "Lead the way, Granger." Hermione looked at him, mortified.

"No way!"

"Come on," He said and gently tugged her arm to make her start walking towards the house.

"We expect details! We'll carry on until you get back!" George called after them. "I want to go next, someone dare me!"

Hermione felt her throat constrict once they entered through the back door.

"Malfoy..?" She protested.

"Hush." He said, pressing her forward and up the stairs. She felt her heart hammer against her chest, hating being in such an enclosed space with him. They reached the landing and she shook his arm off to turn towards him.

"I don't want to do this." She said, not sounding as strong as she intended.

"We don't have to look at your naughty things, Granger. We'll just hang around up here for a bit so they'll believe I did." He said. She paused a beat but then nodded.

"Thanks." She said and turned to open her door.

"You sure you're alright with me going in your room?" He asked, looking uncertain. "We can just sit in the hallway or something..." Hermione shrugged.

"It's okay. You can come in."

They entered and Malfoy took in the room around him. Her bed sat off center in the room, close to the window. Bookshelves flanked the open window and were crammed with volumes of every nature. She had an office desk with a chair in one corner and a small vanity next to the bed. All the woods were a rich cherrywood. Her comforter looked to be made of down goose feathers; it was white and pristine. The color accenting the room in the form of pillows, linens, and paint was different hues of yellow. A door leading to the bathroom and a mirrored set of closet doors were on the left-hand wall. There was a bulletin board above the vanity that held pictures of her and her friends and family. Some moving, others not. Next to it was a matching bulletin board with memorabilia from her Hogwarts days. Tickets to the Hogwarts Express, her letter of acceptance to the school, a Gryffindor quidditch flag, a formal invitation to the Yule Ball. There was even a picture of herself, Ron and Harry in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, sitting on some rubble, laughing about something.

"Seems like it was yesterday." Malfoy suddenly uttered, running a single finger down the side of the picture.

"Sometimes," Hermione said softly, sitting in her office chair. She started fidgeting with a paper clip, nervous to have him in her personal space.

"It was one of the best days of my life." He said. Hermione cocked her head to the side.

"That's a strange thing to say."

"Well... it's not like I enjoyed that day it's just," He looked over at her, shrugging. "The good guys won. Voldemort was defeated. I didn't have to go on pretending."

"Pretending what?" She asked.

"That I really hated any of you; that I wanted to be a Death Eater that hates on muggle-borns. That I supported that cause. I was as trapped in my decisions as any of you were." He said.

"Malfoy, you can't honestly say you never hated any of us." Hermione scoffed. "The things you used to say to me-"

"Were barbaric and cruel. Up until I was about fourteen, I didn't know better. I only preached and acted how I was brought up."

"What changed?" Her tone was harsh, not buying into his admissions. "How we're raised is pretty ingrained in our personality, Malfoy."

"Voldemort returned, in the flesh. My life was never the same after that. There were so many.. killings... so many people I knew being tortured in my own home. I never wanted to be a part of that. But I had a part to play as the dutiful Malfoy heir. I couldn't turn back. I couldn't just quit. I planned to be a double agent like I suspected Severus to be-"

"That's extremely dangerous. And stupid. You could have been killed." Hermione argued.

"I almost was. There were a few times I tried to... contribute... to the other sides cause." He said, turning back to her pictures. He stared at one of her and Viktor Krum dancing in circles over and over at the Yule Ball.

"For example?" She prodded.

"I knew you guys were following me, that day in Knockturn Alley with my Mother. I let you. I wanted you all to somehow figure it out and stop me."

"That's not saying too much, Malfoy. It wasn't much to go on, but it did lead Harry to believe you'd become a Death Eater." Hermione said sadly. "We didn't believe him, at first. But he had been right."

"It was all I could do, Granger! Voldemort chose me! Branded me; as a way to punish my family for my Father failing to return to him the prophecy. He would have killed my Mother if I hadn't gone along with it but... I had to try; to do anything I could. I tripped up purposefully for months, knowing the Death Eaters would chalk it up to youthful stupidity. Severus was on to my charade instantly. He made an unbreakable vow with my Mother to kill Dumbledore in my place if I couldn't succeed. Even then, they both knew I didn't have the stomach for such things." He said bitterly.

"Are you actually mad at yourself for not being strong enough to kill someone?" Hermione asked, disgusted.

"No. I'm disappointed in myself that I didn't have the strength to do _anything_. I was a coward." He said fiercely. "I still am." Hermione didn't know what to say about that. She barely knew the man standing before her; his confessions boggled her mind. He even looked different to her now. His stormy gray eyes had lost their fire. Instead, they held a sadness she hadn't noticed before. His hair was a darker blonde that was no longer slicked back but flowed freely into his eyes at times. He didn't wear formal attire in his leisure times, it seemed, as he donned dark wash jeans and a black tshirt. She had been staring at him a moment too long. He looked away and uttered, "Say something, Granger."

"You can call me Hermione if you can answer me this," she said. He looked back up at her expectantly. "Why are you staying here. And be honest."

Malfoy looked conflicted. "Can I tell you later? The others will think lude things if we don't get back soon." He offered, trying to cut the tension. Hermione smirked.

"Like you'd be so lucky." She teased and got up to head towards her closet.

"Stranger things have happened, Granger." Malfoy teased back. "What're you doing?"

"There needs to be some truth to the dare." She said, opening the closet door and pointing to the top drawer of a dresser. "I'm not showing you what's inside, but this _is_ the drawer that hides the naughtier things in my life." Malfoy's eyes became quite round. "Now when people ask if you've seen my _drawer_ of lacy stuff, you can say-"

"Yep. I saw that drawer, alright." He finished and they chuckled together as they headed back down to the party.

 **Things have shifted a bit between all our characters over the years, it seems!**

 **I really wanted to portray these characters developing the way most adolescents do when they become adults. A lot of fics have the characters acting exactly the same, if not more so, as they did back in Hogwarts times. When you mature into an adult, though, especially after a war, you really start seeing things vastly different. Yes, we all carry our sense of self with us through the years, but we all grow into better versions of ourselves, too. For Hermione, it's strange to see all her friends reactions to the Slytherin's. Some of them have become friends over the years and some still hold a grudge for obvious reasons. I hope you all like the story so far!**

 **3TheMissMegan**


	6. Hot'n'Cold

**Prepare yourself for a bit of fluff and drama! Enjoy this longer chapter!**

 **3TheMissMegan**

"You two took your time," George said, placing an arm around Hermione's shoulders when they stepped up to the fire.

"I had a lot to go through." Hermione laughed at George's cheeky smile.

"What did she do, Malfoy, model it all for you?" Blaise winked and Pansy looked disgusted.

"Maybe she did. You'll never know, Zabini." Malfoy said and the dark-skinned wizard snapped his finger in mock disappointment.

"Darn. I was so looking forward to the details."

"We all were." George laughed.

"She's like my sister, guys, shut up." Harry piped in haughtily, looking queasy.

"Hey mate, you alright over there?" Neville asked.

"It seems he's been knocking back quite a few since everyone arrived," Rolf said.

"Well it's no wonder, considering..." Ron mentioned.

"Considering what?" Ginny asked. Ron looked over her shoulder at Theo and then back at her. "Oh, come off it, Ron. Harry and I broke up a long time ago."

"Ginny," Hermione warned and placed a hand on her arm. Harry stood up wobbly and raised his beer bottle.

"To the happy couple!" He said loudly. "It seems like it wasn't just commitment you didn't want, it was me! I should have known."

"It's no wonder you dumped him, Weasley. Potter's a pathetic mess." Pansy's snarky words earned her disgusted looks from the Gryffindor's. Harry drew his wand on her but Ron quickly grabbed it from his hand and pocketed it.

"I should arrest the lot of you!" Harry yelled, throwing down his beer bottle. "Especially you! After you tried to turn me over to Voldemort-!" He pointed to Pansy and Ron held him back.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled. "Take him home!"

Ron nodded, grabbed a hold of Lavender, and the three disapparated away.

Hermione turned to the female Slytherin and pointed away from the house.

"You need to leave." She demanded.

"Oh, come off it, Granger. Potter was drunk and everyone knows it. He turned his wand on me, for Merlin's sake. Should be locked up, the nutter." Pansy crossed her arms in defense. "I wouldn't want him as a husband, either. He's a weakling."

"Harry has been in love with Ginny since he was sixteen, you fucking twit! Their breakup was awful for all of us." Hermione defended her closest friend. "They lived together. They had started raising his Godson together, like the family he never had. And then she ripped it all away when he proposed to her and she said no! It's still hard on him but he was making an effort here tonight because her happiness is the most important thing to him! But you wouldn't know any of that, because you're too busy with a stick up your ass to pay attention to anyone but yourself!" She yelled.

"Whoa, you broke Granger, Pans." Blaise said.

"Sod off, Granger!" Pansy said.

"Get the hell out of here, Parkinson." Hermione said. "You're no longer welcome in my home." The wards that Ginny and Hermione had put up on the house shifted, and Pansy was blasted out of the yard. She landed with a thump in the grass of the next door neighbor with an _unph_ and quickly apparated away. Hermione stood planted to the spot, breathing heavily and feeling completely rotten at having made such a scene. But Harry was her best friend; like her own brother. He was still in so much pain over losing Ginny all these years later. Pansy didn't know that but the girl had no freaking sensitivity.

"Hermione, I think we better go." Neville said apologetically. "Luna and I are leading the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow."

"Good point, Neville. Come on, dear," Luna said, gesturing for Rolf to take her hand. They each gave Hermione a sympathetic look and apparated away.

"We've got dates waiting for us," Dean said. "We just wanted to stop in to see everyone. Thanks for the great party, Hermione."

"What party were you at?" She asked, smiling weakly.

"A party isn't good without some hexing or drama. So kudos! Just like the good ol' days!" Seamus clapped her back, the impact jolting her to take a step forward.

"Sorry." He said and turned to the others. "Bye guys!" Then they were off.

"You sure know how to kill a party, Granger." Blaise said. "See you some other time." He apparated away, as well. Hermione gazed at the fire, thinking of how quickly things had escalated.

"Really great party, Hermione." Ginny said quietly; sarcastically. "The best." Hermione turned to the girl in frustration.

"I guess that's what happens when you bring a Slytherin to a Gryffindor party." George tried to joke and lighten the toxic environment that was forming magical, thick clouds in the air over them.

"Not now, George!" Ginny spat and a lightning bolt slashed out to the ground from the low hanging clouds above.

"I'm sorry I threw your _friend_ out, Gin. But there was no way I was going to let her stay here a moment longer and continue insulting Harry." Hermione clenched her fists. "The fact is, _you_ should have said something to her before I did. She's _your_ friend!"

"Is that was this was about? Your hatred for my Slytherin friends?" Ginny asked, looking shocked. Malfoy and Theo looked to each other uncomfortably, fatigue in their eyes.

"Of course not! You saw that we were all getting along tonight. I was as surprised as anyone how well it seemed to be going there for a while." Malfoy registered mild surprise at her words. "But Pansy fucking Parkinson is and always has been a vain, sadistic bully who doesn't give a shit about anyone. Harry used to be your best friend, Ginny! You should have spoken up for him!" Hermione pointed her way and more lightning struck but with less fervor.

"Merlin, Granger, tell us how you really feel." Theo said, rolling his eyes.

"She has a point, Nott. Pansy's a bitch." Malfoy said strongly. Ginny threw up her hands.

"This is so typical. I'm always to blame for what happened between Harry and I! I'm always the bad guy who makes impulsive decisions! Now I'm being blamed for Pansy's actions, too?"

"Ginny, no. We all understood why you made your decision concerning Harry. But you have to understand, too... we're all still friends with _both_ of you and it's hard on us-" George said but was cut off.

"Hard on _you_?" Ginny turned on him and thunder rumbled above. "I was the one who had to tell the person I loved we were going too fast. I was twenty years old, George! I wasn't ready to be a mother or a wife!"

"We know, Gin. But it's really not about that. You're making the subject about you when it's about him. Pansy verbally attacked our friend. And you know their history, it's despicable. You should have put her in her place. It wasn't my job to do so." Hermione said calmly.

"I couldn't just tell her to shut up-"

"Yes, you could have. I'm tired of being the parent in this friendship, Gin." Hermione started walking back into the house but before she made it to the door, Ginny spoke.

"I'm staying at Theo's tonight so we can catch our Portkey for America in the morning. While I'm gone, you and I should both mull over this conversation and decide if living together is really in our best interests anymore." She said. Hermione turned, a pained expression of regret passing over her face before Ginny grabbed Theo's hand and disapparated away.

"Jesus, Hermione." George muttered and gave her an 'oh shit' look. "I hope you guys can come back from this. My sister is stubborn. She holds grudges..."

"We'll be fine, George. Are you sober enough to get home without being splinched?"

"I am now. You two going to be alright by yourselves for two weeks? You won't kill each other?" George smiled weakly. Hermione looked over at Malfoy and sighed. He started picking up the empties and putting them in a bin.

"I'll take out the bins now, Granger." He mentioned, shooting her an obvious look as he reminded her of their earlier banter.

"I think it'll be okay, George. If he makes me too mad I'll just kill him in his sleep." Hermione joked.

"Hey! Bad form, Granger. At least give a man a chance!" Malfoy called to her as he was making his way around the side of the house.

"Well then, I'll see you Sunday, right? For dinner at Mum's?" George asked.

"Maybe. We'll see. Goodnight." She said.

"See ya." He gave her a peck on the cheek and with a loud crack, he was gone.

Malfoy came back a couple minutes later to collect more trash.

"This has been the wierdest day." Hermione said, not really expecting him to respond.

"You're telling me. Serpents and lions co-mingling in Hermione Granger's backyard? Partying and playing truth or dare? Unheard of!" His sarcasm was obvious as there was humor in his voice. Hermione felt her lips turn up in an almost smile but released it as soon as he had his back turned. She got to work bewitching the leftover food and booze back into the fridge and scourgified the table top and bbq. She put out the tiki torches, fire pit and twinkle lights just as Malfoy was done picking up and grabbing the last bin to put out front. The magic clouds were gone now but mother nature still had hers way up in the sky.

Hermione closed her eyes and tilted her head up. She could hear the faint _plink plink_ of raindrops against her umbrella charm. The rain had started, just as she predicted. Softly, at first. Growing louder the longer she stood there. It was one of her favorite sounds. She reveled in the stillness of everything a moment longer before waving her wand and releasing the rain onto herself.

"Granger?" Malfoy called her name. "What're you doing?"

"Nothing, Malfoy." She replied barely above a whisper, letting the rain soak through her clothing and hair. She could feel how truly cold it was now that the fire was out; a true April evening unfolding around her. She figured it had to be at least midnight already. The freezing rain fell in a shower, thunder rumbling somewhere to the east. Spring in London could be so dreary with all the rain but Hermione loved it. It reminded her of home. But she _was_ home now. This house, the one she shared with Ginny, had been her home for a few years now.

Would Ginny want her to move out? Or would she, herself, want to leave Hermione behind? It hurt her heart to think about it. She didn't have many places she could call home anymore. Her parents were still in Australia. The Weasley's would take her in at the Burrow in a heartbeat but they were still so crowded. She couldn't be a burden to them. Harry would let her stay at Grimmauld Place but the house still scared her from her youth.

A pair of warm arms wrapped around her shoulders in an unfamiliar embrace from behind. Hermione stiffened and held her breath.

"Malfoy, what-"

"You looked so melancholy." He murmured next to her ear, sending chills down her spine. When she shivered, he withdrew a little. "Sorry, I must repulse you, I wasn't thinking-"

"No, I..." Hermione grabbed his forearms before they could snake away and without a thought as to why. "I'm just... I'm really cold, Malfoy." She fibbed only slightly. She was cold, but it didn't bother her in the slightest. He hesitated but tightened his hold once more across her chest.

"I know it must be hard for you, fighting with your friends."

"It wouldn't be for you?" She asked.

"Not really. We all bicker a bunch but... at the end of the day I know they have my back." He said. "We don't take much to heart or get our feelings hurt easily."

"I must seem like such a weakling to you." She admitted.

"Um, no Granger, not at all. You defied the fucking Dark Lord. You're not weak. You're one of the strongest people I know."

"What?" She turned and he let his arms drop. "You don't really know me, Malfoy."

"I've watched you... from afar." He shrugged one shoulder and looked away. "I know what sort of person you are. I've followed your career in the Prophet. Any time an article popped up about you at some charity function or rally for equal rights, I read it."

"Why?" She asked, her brows knitted together.

"The whole world watches your every move, Granger. You're practically a celebrity." He deflected.

"Come off it," She rolled her eyes.

"It's true. Whether you like to admit it or not, you're the darling of the wizarding world. The muggle born who defied Voldemort himself by standing at Potter's side." He exaggerated. Hermione just shook her head, droplets of rain dripping from the ends of her hair.

"If you think everyone views me that way, you're crazy. Most people see me as a meddling know-it-all. There's still a heavy amount of pureblood weight being thrown around in the Ministry these days, Malfoy. None of them want to relinquish the hold they have on their house elves or illegal gaming rings. I get threats. A lot of them." Malfoy stiffened.

"From who?"

"You think anyone would sign their name to a death threat?" She joked weakly.

"You can trace letters, Granger." He almost sounded like the pompous version of himself she was familiar with.

"I know. It's not like I haven't tried."

"Have you talked to Potter about this, at least?" He asked more softly, knowing Harry was a Senior Auror with the Ministry.

"I've mentioned a couple. He looked into it but only found dead ends. If I bothered him with every little thing, he'd go crazy." She brushed it off. "Let's go inside now to dry off and we can make some tea or something." Malfoy nodded and they went back in.

"There are towels in the linen closet by the loo," Hermione pointed out while she toed off her shoes next to the backdoor, not wanting to track water in. Malfoy grabbed a couple and came back with one for her. "Thanks." She toweled off her hair and he did the same. A comfortable silence settled over them and she headed for the stairs. "I'll be down in a sec."

"Okay. Do you want me to start a fire? It's rather chilly in here from having the backdoor open all evening." He pointed to the fireplace.

"Sure," She called back to him, ascending the stairs.

"Incendio!" She heard him call out before she closed her bedroom door.

Hermione dried off quickly and put on her sweats and a tank top. She pulled a Gryffindor jumper on over her head and braided back her long, damp hair. Before heading back down, she jammed her feet in the pygmy puff slippers. Malfoy was right, it was cold in the house.

"I put on a kettle," Malfoy mentioned when she came back down.

"Brilliant. Tea? Hot chocolate?"

"Tea's fine, Granger, don't go to any trouble." He said from where he sat on the overstuffed cream colored couch, a gray fleece throw strewn over his lap. He had his legs crossed at the ankle on the coffee table, a thick stack of papers at his side. He was reading something from a crisp, white piece of paper, a pair of reading glasses perched on his face. He looked comfortable, like he belonged there in his sweatpants and thsirt. She doubted she'd ever looked as comfortable sitting on that couch.

"Made yourself right at home, I see." She teased. Malfoy dropped the piece of paper and set his feet back on the floor.

"Sorry,"

"It's alright, I'm only teasing, Malfoy." She said as she busied herself putting together a small tea service.

"Draco." He said firmly.

"Hmm?" She looked over her shoulder and he was regarding her with an odd expression.

"You don't have to call me Malfoy." He said. "You can use my first name."

"Habit, I suppose." She mentioned, pouring some jam in a small container.

"Granger, I told you not to go to any trouble." Malfoy scolded and strode over to help.

"It's what I do when I have company over." She shrugged. Malfoy cut the toast into triangles and set them on the plate she put out.

"I'm company now? Not just a guest?" He quirked a brow and glanced at her. She shrugged.

"You haven't made me regret letting you stay yet, and you're not bad to talk to so... yeah. You're company. But there's always tomorrow." She joked.

"Good to know. You got any marmalade, Granger?" He asked.

"In the fridge door." She said. He went to fetch it and she sliced an apple. "Can you grab the honey?" She asked.

"Sure, where?"

"By the stove."

"Here," He handed it to her and she drizzled some in a small bowl for the fruit. "Looks good."

"Agreed." She said before heading to the front door.

"Going somewhere?" He asked.

"Locking up." She assured. She turned the deadbolt and fixed the chain on the door above. Then she went to the back door and did the same. Once it was locked, she brought up the more secure wards for her property with a small muttering of enchantments she learned long ago.

"You got enough security in this place or what?" Malfoy asked, watching her.

"I have to. It's something I've just always done since about fourth year." She said. Malfoy nodded. She turned to walk back towards the kitchen to ready the teapot when she slipped on some water on the hardwood floor by the back door.

"Watch it, Granger!" Malfoy's panicked voice said and Hermione fell unceremoniously on her ass and elbows.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy. Didn't you wipe up the floor when you came in after me?" She asked.

"I thought I got it all but-" Hermione started laughing at her own misfortunes, the day hitting her like a pile of bricks. "You're mental, I swear." Malfoy shook his head in disbelief and reached out a hand to help her up. She took it and he lifted her to a standing position. She slipped once more and fell into his chest, his arms wrapping around to keep her from falling again.

"I'm usually not this clumsy, I swear." She continued laughing but it died out when she saw his amused expression. Their faces were close together and she could see the silver flecks in his gray eyes. There seemed to be a faint, silver ring around the irises that captured her attention. His cheeks were tinted slightly red and his lips were parted.

"Granger, I-" He started but was cut off by the whistling of the kettle. Hermione smiled weakly and untangled herself. She walked carefully over to the kettle and turned off the stove. She poured the boiling water into the teapot with a few teabags of chamomile and set the pot on the tray. When she went to lift it, Malfoy stopped her and picked it up himself. "I got it." Hermione simply nodded and they both walked over to the couch, Malfoy setting the tray on the coffee table.

She looked over at the piece of paper he had set down earlier and gasped.

"Is that my book?" She pointed accusingly.

"You told me not to take my time reading it. Of course it's your book!" He snapped.

"Oh no no no I can't be here while you're reading it!" She covered her face.

"I won't read it out here, then! But just know, this weekend was the time I allotted myself to finish it. So don't go bugging me or getting upset about me reading it in the house, Granger, because it has to be done at some point." He said, exasperated.

"Fine! Just don't read it in front of me! I can't stand it!" She raised her voice.

"Why?"

"Because you'll probably think it's rubbish!" She yelled.

"Calm down, woman! It's just a book!" He yelled back.

"No, it's not! It's a book I've written, by myself, for nearly two years! I put my heart into it; it's my baby." She countered. "I just don't know if I can trust you reading it. You'll think it's silly."

"Why? Because it's romance? I publish romance all the time."

"No, because I never envisioned you having much of a heart, Malfoy!" She yelled again. Malfoy recoiled slightly and turned away from her. Hermione was breathing a little heavy and immediately regretted her words.

"I'm sorry." She said dumbly, knowing it wouldn't make a difference.

"It's fine." He said in a clipped tone. "It's nothing I haven't heard a million times."

"I'm not a cruel person, Malfoy, but... you've always brought out my worst side. If today has proven anything, it's that you've changed. I could tell the moment you tried to coax me through my anxiety attack but... it's just... going to take some time. My automatic response towards you is to run the other way or fight with you."

"I know." He said. "I deserve it."

"I don't think anyone deserves anything in this life, Malfoy. But I believe we all go through times when we desire forgiveness and understanding. I'll try to give that to you, if that's what you want or need." She said and touched his back.

"Maybe some other time." He shrugged her hand off and collected the stack of papers that were her book and headed to the guest room that presided past the kitchen. The door closed with a soft _click_.

"Good job, Hermione. You've really muddled this whole day up." She said to herself.

 **Crazy chapter, right? There's still a lot of friction between everyone, it seems. Sometimes it's easier to forgive past offenses than it is to forget them. Please review and tell me what you're liking about the story so far! I appreciate all the follows and favorites.**


	7. The Apology

The next morning, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Hermione wasn't sure if he was taking her suggestion from the previous night to just hibernate in the guest room or if he had left the house before she woke. When she came downstairs, nothing seemed out of place. It didn't appear as if anyone had been up making coffee or breakfast. The place had a stillness that Hermione instantly found lonely.

She felt like she should apologize to him again. The concept was foreign to her where Malfoy was concerned but she had been raised to admit when she was wrong or hurt someone.

Ginny would be pushing her to talk to him.

 _Ginny._

There was another person she owed an apology to. She'd be in America with Theo by now so there'd be no way to talk to her beloved friend for a while.

Hermione had been standing at the kitchen sink, looking out the window, for more than a few minutes as she pondered what to do with the free time she seldom had.

Firsts things, first, breakfast. She made the coffee, a little melancholy to think there'd be no one to share it with, and put some bread in the toaster. She wasn't feeling very hungry so toast would have to do.

After she finished breakfast, Hermione thought she heard a small cough within the house.

 _Ha! He_ IS _here!_

In her best 'making peace' mindset, she made up another cup of coffee and ventured over to the guestroom door.

She paused briefly, unsure if it was a good idea, and lifted her hand to the door, knocking softly.

"Malfoy? Are you up? I made coffee," She said and waited for a response. He seemed to be either be asleep still or ignoring her. After her bad behavior yesterday, she was sure it was the latter. "Come on Malfoy... please let me apologize." She thought she could hear soft ruffling. She pressed her ear to the door but it was ripped open a second later.

Malfoy looked disheveled, sleep in his eyes. He still wore his sweatpants but he had no shirt on. His bare chest was pale but marred with several light scars. He seemed to be in great physical shape, from what Hermione could tell. But as she realized that, she also realized she'd been staring.

"I don't want your apologies, Granger. Just the coffee." He said grumpily, taking the mug and slamming the door.

Hermione's jaw dropped and she knocked again.

"Malfoy come on!"

"An apology will only make _you_ feel better, Granger. I have loads of work so just leave me be." He said through the door. Hermione sulked in front of his door a moment longer before giving up and beelining for her own room and slamming the door.

He was so stubborn! Why couldn't he just let her apologize?

She supposed he wanted sincerity from her. But she had felt sincere in needing to apologize, hadn't she?

Maybe that's what he meant, though. She wanted to say sorry but _was_ she sorry for what she said? She knew she felt bad for how he had reacted to it. Hermione didn't take joy in inflicting pain on anyone, not even Malfoy. Except for the time she had struck him in third year but, he had truly deserved that.

Hermione marched back downstairs and pounded on Malfoy's door once more. He opened it quicker this time, looking annoyed.

"What?" He snapped.

"I'm not sorry for what I said!" She yelled. Malfoy's head jerked back in surprise and his mouth dropped open.

"Who taught you how to say an apology, Granger? They did a poor job-"

"I'm not sorry I insinuated you didn't have a heart!" She repeated and pointed at him. "It's your fault I feel that way. You've made me think that about you for quite some time, now." Malfoy wasn't expecting her response but he didn't say anything to contradict her, so she continued.

"You bullied me all through school. You constantly teased, mocked, hexed and hated me for a long time, simply for being what you and your family deemed disgraceful. I pride myself on trying not to be a begrudging person... but you're the one person who treated me the worst in this world, aside from your Aunt." Hermione's hand absent-mindedly grabbed for her scar again, like it always did when she remembered or talked about Bellatrix and that night in the Manor. It didn't go unnoticed by Malfoy and he looked fatigued at the mere mention of that night. "I'm glad that you're able to try to move on and live a normal life these days, especially after what you told me your life was like before the war ended but," She swallowed nervously. " _You're_ the one who owes _me_ an apology. Not the other way around." They stared at one another, brown and gray eyes linked together. She wasn't sure what he'd say but felt like a brush off wouldn't be too far of a stretch since he wore a blank expression.

"I'm sorry, Granger."

That was not what she had been expecting.

"I should have said it long ago but my pride and shame got in the way." He added.

Hermione felt strange, lightheaded almost.

"Breathe, Granger." He reminded. She released the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding and sighed.

"Thank you." She muttered.

"You're welcome." He replied. Now he looked uncomfortable. "So..."

"So," She felt awkward, unsure of where to go from there. "That's really all I wanted to say, I think."

"Alright." He said softly, fiddling with his coffee cup. "I was lying before," He suddenly burst out when she turned to leave. "I don't really have much work to do. Yesterday was my first day back to work in some time."

"Oh," Hermione looked up at him with a small smile. "Did you want to do something today? I find myself with all this free time for some reason." She shot him a knowing look. He nodded, smirking at her.

"Sure, Granger. I'll get dressed." He said.

"Okay." She turned again and ran back upstairs.

"Don't you love London in the Springtime?" Hermione asked as she toted around an umbrella in one hand and a messenger bag over her shoulder.

"It's alright. A bit dreary for my liking." Malfoy commented, looking apprehensively at the dark clouds above. It looked to pour again at any moment. He had his jacket zipped up as far as it would go and his hands were jammed into his pockets.

Hermione felt like a child, splashing in puddles she'd come across in her rain boots.

"Rain is too dreary for a Malfoy? I'm shocked." She said, jumping into another puddle in a dip of the sidewalk.

"You've got mud all over your tights now. And your dress." Malfoy said, seeming uninterested.

"Lighten up!" She demanded.

Since they made up, she decided to make the most of him staying at her house. Due to his hatred and bigotry growing up, she never had the opportunity to get to know him. Now that they had a fresh start, she wanted to learn the things that made him who he was today. Maybe she'd shock the hell out of herself and Ginny and actually become friends with him. It seemed far-fetched but you never knew...

"Where you a taking me, anyway?"

"It's a secret." She replied and continued along a few steps in front of him so she wouldn't splash him. She didn't quite hold up to their unspoken agreement about it, though, as she splashed into a particularly deep puddle and regretfully sent dirty water cascading all over the front of Malfoy's pants.

"Sorry!" She called over to him as his face registered the surprise of instantly being cold and wet.

"Granger!" He growled.

"I'll fix it!"

"Not in the middle of a muggle street, you can't!" He hissed.

"Draco, is that you?" Malfoy turned, his legs covered in puddle water, and blushed a deep crimson from embarrassment. His face registered the woman in question with disdain but quickly masked it with an air of dignity his appearance lacked.

"Madam Pearlman," Malfoy bowed slightly and rose with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "What a pleasure to run into you."

The woman in question regarded Malfoy with cool indifference. She looked to be in her sixties. She had beautiful, silver hair in an elegant updo. Her skin was clear with just a few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Her clothes were other-worldly; her dress looking to be straight from a Jane Austen novel. It billowed around her in the breeze looking quite posh and expensive. The colors were almost luminescent; lilacs and different shades of cream seemed to glow despite the harsh gray weather. If Hermione had to guess the material, she'd assume silk. The woman had a set of large diamond earrings and a pendant around her neck. She was quite possibly the most grand-looking person Hermione had ever seen. It didn't seem to worry the woman at all that it could rain from the heavens at any moment.

Madam Pearlman sniffed, giving Hermione a calculated look of disgust, and addressed Malfoy again.

"What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn't you be headed over to finalize the arrangements?" She asked. Malfoy's shoulders slumped slightly and he cast Hermione a wary expression.

"Indeed, you're right. I was just running an errand before heading to the Manor." He said, his voice dripping with the normally pompous tone Hermione was used to.

"Better sooner rather than later, Draco." She said sternly, flicking her eyes at Hermione again. Malfoy's posture grew stiffer if that were possible, and he bowed again.

"Of course, I'll head right over." He made to grab Hermione's hand, expecting her to apparate away with him she guessed, but before he could, Madam Pearlman cleared her throat.

Hermione felt confused. She had no idea who this woman was; she'd never even heard of her in the wizarding community. She seemed to have some sort of authority over Malfoy, though. He picked up on the tiniest signals she'd put out to him. He appeared almost docile, the complete opposite of his normal confident self.

"You don't need distractions, dear." Madam Pearlman said in a stage whisper as if Hermione couldn't hear her. Malfoy tensed and looked away from her towards Hermione.

"It's not a distraction, I have business with this woman." He said firmly and looked back at the older woman. "It'd do you well not to meddle in a man's business." Madam Pearl didn't look phased at his brash behavior or hard tone.

"You look more and more like Lucius each day." She said, smiling almost maternally like she were proud. Something unspoken had passed between them but Hermione had no clue what it was. She looked down and remembered her awful appearance compared to the older woman's. That combined with their rapport made her feel quite out of place.

"Thank you," Malfoy replied flatly. "Let's go, Granger." He said and grabbed for her hand.

"After your business is concluded, I don't expect I'll see you with that mudblood anymore. Understood?" Madam Pearlman said, her tone loud and clear. Hermione balked, her eyes round and her face started to flush red.

"Excuse me-!" Hermione started to say.

"Don't speak to me!" Madam Pearlman said, refusing to look at her any longer.

"We're leaving now, good day," Malfoy said haughtily and he apparated them away.

 **Goodness gracious... who could that woman be? ;)**


	8. Malfoy Manor

"What the hell, Malfoy!" Hermione's stomach turned at the sudden apparation. She ripped her hand out of his and brought it to her mouth, embarrassment looming at the thought of throwing up in front of him.

"You alright?" He asked, sounding off. Hermione looked over and saw him clenching and unclenching his fists. His face was set in a hard mask but his eyes were closed. He was breathing slowly through his nose. He looked to be calming himself.

"Queasy. But it'll pass." She answered, feeling her nausea start to dissipate. It was then that she finally took in her surroundings. There were tons of large trees just starting to grow their spring leaves. The pair stood in the middle of a paved driveway. Straight ahead loomed a large estate; there were many windows and what Hermione assumed used to be white paint covered the house. It looked dingy, even from a distance. It seemed forlorn and lonely like no one had lived there in years. Hermione suddenly realized where they were and turned to see the large, wrought-iron gates behind them.

"Please don't panic." He said. She looked back at him and he seemed to have calmed down a bit just as she was internally freaking out. Her palms started to sweat, her breathing became labored.

"I can't—"

"I didn't mean for you to come here with me today but Pearlman gave me no choice," He said sternly. "I have business here today that I can't ignore and you can't apparate away from here without me due to a weird tick in the wards."

"Please," He pleaded. Hermione had opened her mouth to protest. Her fight or flight instincts were blaring. The last time she had been here, she'd been tortured. Her hand flew to her left arm and she squeezed over the scarred area, staring daggers at the house. Malfoy sighed loudly, a look of pure sympathy on his face. "I know all too well how difficult this is for you, Granger. Believe it or not, it's hard for me, too." She looked into his eyes. He sounded sincere. But he always looked so indifferent, a mask always at the forefront of his features. It was hard for her to trust him one way or the other.

"Who was that awful woman?" Hermione asked.

"An old friend of my Mothers. She's from a sacred twenty-eight family but she goes by a different last name since her husband died many years ago. She made it up to distance herself from the pain, I guess. At least, that's how my Mother used to tell it. But her actual name is Victorius Fawley." Malfoy said.

"That explains why she called me that despicable name, I guess," Hermione said, looking down at her boots. Malfoy nodded.

"Old habits die harder for some. I learn to just ride out what she says and ignore it later when she's not around."

"Was she around often when you were growing up?"

"Of course. My Mother held endless functions here for the families of the sacred twenty-eight and Madame Pearlman usually helped with preparations. It was all very drab and borish." He said and gave her an exasperated expression, like just thinking of such things exhausted him. Hermione let a beat pass before asking the questions that were burning in her brain.

"Why did you even need to come here today? And if you still have this big house, why are you staying with me?" She asked. If she was going to face down her fear of the place, he needed to give her a good reason to. That required honest answers. He turned away from her, staring up at the old manor with a wary expression. He was quiet for a few moments, seeming to contemplate his answer.

A chilly breeze whispered through the trees, their branches creaking ominously. Hermione had the heebie-jeebies and wrapped her arms around her sweater-clad self.

"My Mother recently died." He said quietly. Hermione hadn't been sure if he'd be truthful but was glad he opted for it.

"My condolences," She bowed her head. "That's awful, Malfoy."

"Yes." He said. "But that's not why I can't stay here. At least, not directly." Hermione's brows knitted together and she took a few steps closer to him to hear him better. They were shoulder to shoulder now, looking up at the manor together. He had his hands in his pockets and she held her umbrella steadfast.

"What happened?"

"She got really sick. It came on slowly, at first, then all at once in the last year of her life. We went to every halfway decent healer in the world. Even muggle doctors had no idea what was wrong. Some suspected cancer, others thought it was a rare autoimmune disease. I brewed every potion I could think of. I dabble in potion enhancements so I thought if I could just... create something useful from something that already existed..." He paused and scoffed at himself like the idea was absurd.

"I remember you being excellent in potions back at school. I would have thought to do the same thing if I were talented in that, too." She said softly.

"When I talked to my contacts at St. Mungo's, they were flabbergasted that I was even trying. I'm not considered a Potions Master, despite my rather extensive knowledge, so the idea that I could brew something of actual substance had them skeptical. But still, I had to try." He said. "I consulted every expert I could find, making sure my Mother received the best care while I tried traveling the world a second time just to gather ideas from people. I talked to curse breakers, thinking she might have had a spell or curse cast against her I was unfamiliar with. Her symptoms were too erratic and unpredictable. Not one person had a single clue why she was dying. Finally, after spending almost the entire remains of my inheritance and savings from work, I had to give up, come home, and care for my Mother in her final days."

"Malfoy..." Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. She was heartsick for him. To have to go through all that alone, with no one to help him or guide him to anything useful... it was unbearable. But he did it, though. He bore it all by himself with a strength that she couldn't comprehend.

"There's going to be an auction here next week." He said and shook off her hand. She let it fall, not minding his need for distance.

"An auction for what?" She asked.

"Like I said, I spent all I had left caring for her. The Malfoy fortune was dispersed to victims of the war after Voldemort fell. So I'm broke, with some hospital bills yet to pay."

"You're selling your family's things?" She asked, horrified.

"I have to sell the entire estate. Every last book, candelabra, and painting will be auctioned to pay for any residual debts I owe from her illness. It dragged on for a long time, Granger. If I don't do this, I'd be trying to pay off these debts for years and years to come." He said, giving her a look of gratitude at how upset it seemed to make her.

"But... don't you own part of Olympus? You're a publisher there." She didn't understand how someone who owned part of such a vast company could be so broke.

"I do. And while that does provide me with a tidy living, I asked for a lot of favors from my partners there to help me make ends meet. Advances, loans..." He looked back at the house, resigned to his fateful decision. "It's for the best, Granger. I hated it here. Nothing good ever came from this place." Hermione swallowed back a retort about it being his family home and looked down at her shoes again.

"I'll go in with you... if you still want me to." She said after a beat. Malfoy sucked in a breath and let it out slowly before answering.

"Thanks, Granger."

"Hermione." She said, looking up at him shyly. He had fulfilled his promise, after all, about telling her why he needed to stay at her house. He looked at her, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Thanks... Hermione. Let's go." He held out the crook of his elbow and she looped her own arm through it, an action she would have set fire to herself before doing not two days earlier.

The air held its' chill but Malfoy's arm provided her with a little extra warmth as they made their way up the driveway. Hermione noted a single swing hanging off a tree to the right of the house and an expansive garden trying to bloom through the spring chill to the left.

"Did your Mother like to garden?" She asked.

"Not particularly but there wasn't much to do in the last fifteen years or so for her. Besides, all Malfoy wives who live here, and they all do, are required to keep up with the gardens. It's a tradition that dates back to the beginning of time." He said the last part facetiously. Hermione snorted.

"It's nice to have traditions sometimes," Hermione said, trying not to focus too much on the ominous house they kept growing closer to.

"Does your family have many traditions?" He asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Not anymore." She said sadly.

"What does that mean?" He asked. She shrugged, not wanting to relay things that made her somber. "Come on, I told you some of my secrets." He persisted.

"Maybe another time." She said as they stopped in front of a large front door. Malfoy huffed.

"Whenever you're ready." He said. Whether he was talking about her family's lack of traditions or entering Malfoy Manor, she wasn't sure, but she nodded and he opened the door without another word.

Hermione expected the inside to look as drab and depressing as the outside, but she couldn't have been more wrong.

The door opened up to a large foyer that had polished black marble floors; white veins running through the stone looked like lightning. There was a beautiful wood table laden with the largest bouquet of flowers Hermione had ever seen. They provided the room with a delicious, fragrant scent. A brightly lit chandelier twinkled above, bathing the vaulted ceiling in light. There was a mural painted above that showcased many different colored dragons in flight. The house was warm and inviting. There were many voices floating from varied directions.

"They're cataloging everything for the auction," Malfoy said. "That's why I needed to stop by; Malfoy Manor has many hiding places chalk full of rare objects. Most of the secret passages aren't in the blueprints."

"I see," Hermione said.

Malfoy led her into a large dining area to the right and noted several objects laid out on the long table that ran down the length of the room. They all had small notecards next to them with a description and a suggested starting bid. Malfoy paid them no mind and continued through the house. He took her down hallways and past the vast kitchen with almost completely new appliances, peaking his head into random rooms as they went.

"Where are we going?" She asked, growing nervous that they'd end up in the room of her nightmares.

"I'm searching for the Auctioneer." He said absent-mindedly while peaking his head into another room.

"Oh."

"He's in charge of this whole damn circus... he's who I need to talk to and then we'll leave." He explained, seeming agitated that they hadn't found him yet. The house was expansive so Hermione couldn't blame him. "Upstairs we go, I suppose,"

They walked up to the second landing and Malfoy hesitated by the first door on the left.

"This is my room... _was_ my room." He said and opened the door all the way this time. He gestured for her to go in first and she instantly smiled at the room in wonder upon entering.

"Malfoy," She looked back at him in amazement. "I had no idea you were so sentimental."

His room looked so... _him._ The furnishings weren't lavish looking but low-key modern and sleek, gray being the primary color. His walls behind a large work desk were littered with Slytherin garb and photos of himself and his friends at Hogwarts. Hermione noticed most of them didn't have an older version of himself, though. The oldest he looked in any of them was about fourteen or fifteen.

Bookshelves lined an entire wall of the room and were crammed with all his old textbooks, workbooks and important papers from school. There were more pictures, these ones framed, of himself with his Mother and Father when he was young, probably about eight, looking happily at each other at some sort of family gathering in the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Another one was taken of himself appearing surly next to his Father and Cornelius Fudge at the Quidditch World Cup. The last one was of just him and his Mother, both appearing tired but relieved. It looked like a clipping from the Prophet and it took Hermione a moment to realize it was the photo taken of them right after Narcissa's and Lucius' sentencing years ago. She tore her gaze away from the pictures and investigated the books further.

There were many different types of texts and spell books but what intrigued her was a small section of novels in the far right corner at the bottom. Hermione about keeled over when she noticed 'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen in the mix. She plucked it off the shelf and held it up for him to see.

"You read muggle books?" She asked. Malfoy looked embarrassed and tried to grab the book back from her.

"I read everything, Granger, you saw my collection at work." Hermione tried to keep the book away from him but as he was almost a foot taller, he easily reached for the book.

A piece of paper fell from it in their struggle and Hermione bent to pick it up as Malfoy tried tucking the book into his jacket. He noticed a second too late and his breath caught when she viewed it.

It was another picture but... this one was... of _her_. Hermione blinked several times, making sure she wasn't seeing things.

She wasn't doing anything special or specific in the photo. She was merely sitting in the library back at Hogwarts, reading a book. She would turn the page every so often and sigh, then the moving picture would reset itself again. Hermione flipped the picture over, looking for some sort of explanation. There was none, as there were no words of description on the back. She wasn't even sure when the picture was taken. She thought she looked about sixteen but... it was hard to tell ages when she wasn't looking directly up. Who had taken it? She couldn't recall anyone in the library ever taking photos except for maybe Collin Creevey, but he knew to ask beforehand by that point...

She held up the picture and looked Malfoy dead in the eyes. He looked rather guilty.

"Why do you have this?" She asked. Malfoy shrugged, still clutching his copy of 'Pride and Prejudice.' "You had it in that book... why?" She asked again. Malfoy opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a man walking through the door and clapping him on the back.

"Draco! Some of the guys let me know you were here. Looking for me?" The man was taller than Malfoy and only appeared to be a little older. He had black hair that curled at the ends and a caramel complexion. His accent was British like he was a local, but he looked like he was from the middle east. He read the room pretty quickly as he looked from Malfoy to Hermione who held up a picture of herself. "If this is a bad time-"

"No, I need to discuss the final details with you. Let's go," Malfoy said, looking relieved at the distraction and gestured everyone out. Hermione handed him the picture as she passed by and gave him a look that said, _we're not done yet_. Malfoy rolled his eyes but followed the two out of his room and they walked to where Hermione presumed the Auctioneer had set up some sort of office for himself while he worked on the house.

"This is Hermione Granger, by the way," Malfoy introduced her and the man leading the way cast a smile back at her.

" _The_ Hermione Granger?" He asked.

"I suppose so." She replied.

"This is the Auctioneer I mentioned, Latif Geraard." Malfoy said to her.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Hermione said more cordially than she felt.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Hermione," Latif said and turned to smile at her briefly before entering a small bedroom that had, indeed, been turned into an office.

"How's the cataloging coming?" Malfoy asked all business. Latif sat down and smiled.

"Very well! We're almost finished with the second floor. The first has been done already. We just need you to show us the hidden passages to work on and then we'll do the third floor and attic to finish." Latif said, pointing out the places he was mentioning on the blueprints.

"Good," Malfoy said. "There are only a few of those passages and they're all very easy to get to if you know where to look..." He prattled on and began explaining them to Latif who was nodding and listening along while making notes.

Hermione zoned out a bit as she noticed the picture peeking out the back pocket of Malfoy's trousers.

Why would he have a picture of her? In a muggle book, of all places? He had stashed the book in his jacket like he intended to keep it so it must be of some importance. She certainly didn't see him dashing to save anything else from his childhood room. Not like he couldn't come back later, though.

He never struck her as someone who was sentimental, she had said as much to him. But he kept tons and tons of pictures from his youth plastered on his walls like an ode to his childhood. She didn't even have that many pictures of herself with her family and friends. At least not on display.

Still, her quandary lied with knowing why he'd kept a picture of _her_ reading in the Hogwarts library. It made no sense. He claimed he had wised up around the end of fourth year and stopped really hating her but... that didn't mean they were friendly or cordial. He'd still _acted_ like he hated her.

"Um, Granger?" Malfoy got her attention and she realized she was still staring at the photo peeking out of his back pocket. Her face flushed at his discomfort upon thinking she was staring at his butt.

"What?" She asked, disheveled.

"We're done here." He said after clearing his throat.

"Please stay for lunch," Latif offered. "We ordered catering from a delicious deli in town, they'll be here any minute."

"I don't think—" Malfoy started.

"Won't you have lunch with us, Miss Hermione? It's not often I meet someone famous, after all." Latif pressured, giving her a small wink. She rolled her eyes.

"Famous? I'm not so sure I'd call myself that." She said uncomfortably. "Well known, maybe."

"She's a modest witch, I like that," Latif said to Malfoy and the blonde smiled tightly. "Come," Latif held out a hand to her and she took it hesitantly. "I'll snag you the comfiest chair in the place and you can recapitulate your tellings of the war."

Hermione felt instantly uncomfortable at his suggestion. She also found it odd he'd be offering her anything from a house that still belonged to Malfoy.

She followed along, though, not wanting to cause a fuss for nothing. Latif led her through the house and back down the stairs, Malfoy following behind slowly as he checked emails on a cell phone.

"Have you been here before, Miss Hermione?" Latif asked, his tone light and sounding slightly flirtatious.

"Only once." She replied tightly.

"It really is something to behold, isn't it?" He asked, seeming in awe.

"Sure." She said.

"Sure? The answer is, absolutely! Properties like this are so rich in history, they're rarely on the market as purebloods don't often cast away history. It's all they have and live for, usually." He cast a snide look at Malfoy, who was still checking his phone. Hermione didn't like this guys implications but Malfoy wasn't paying enough attention to be offended. When she didn't say anything, he went on.

"Estates like this are so full of life and lineage. What I wouldn't give to own such a place."

"Then why don't you buy it if you find it so impressive?" Hermione asked.

"Me? I could never afford it in a thousand years. But there are many who have been in contact with me about it. We're having a showing of the place right before the auction. An open house of sorts for potential buyers of any of the objects or of the estate itself. You should come." He offered smiling down at her.

"I don't think so." She said with certainty.

"And why not? We could use a woman's touch to make the place more homey for possible buyers. You look like you'd be able to do that." Latif mentioned, sounding amused. Hermione tried pulling her hand from his but he held on just as they entered through a set of double doors and into a drawing room...

"Hermione, stop," Malfoy said urgently, pocketing his phone once he realized which room they were entering.

Latif held on, though, pulling her into the room that she'd dreamed about a million times.

Hermione's breath held as she stared blankly at the sleek wooden floors beneath a seemingly repaired chandelier. The room appeared normal, all the furnishings plush and lit up from the light fixture above. It would seem inviting to anyone... except her. She could feel panic crawl up her throat but tried to hold it back. Echoes of her own screams haunted her mind and she tried to grab a hold of her scar, only she couldn't, Latif's grip on her hand was strong and unyielding.

"Let go, Latif. She shouldn't be in here, you're scaring her." Malfoy said, coming to stand next to her other side.

"So it's true, then? This was the room where it happened? Where Bellatrix-?" Latif looked positively giddy now. "Fascinating!" Malfoy looked at the man, appalled. Hermione swung her head towards him, coming to her senses. Realization dawned. This man was a Voldemort supporter. He had to be. Nothing else could explain him practically forcing her in the room and appearing pleased at her discomfort. Without another thought, she whipped her wand out and pointed it at him.

"Stupefy!" She yelled. His hand around hers went limp and he flew back from the sheer force of the spell, toppling over a couch and landing with a definitive thud on the other side. Malfoy looked at her, surprise registering at the sudden turn of events.

Hermione slowly pocketed her wand again, feeling as if she were moving in slow motion. She glanced back down at the spot on the floor where she had lain in a pool of her own blood, the term _mudblood_ being carved into her arm by a sadistic monster.

"Draco?" She asked softly. He looked taken aback at her using his given name but made no comment about it.

"Yeah?"

"Can we go home, now?" She pleaded, unable to tear her gaze away from the floor.

"Yeah." He said and grabbed her hand gently before disapparating them away.

 **Hey there! Here's a longer chapter to make up for the shorty last week! What do you guys think of the story so far? A lot of things were revealed in this chapter. Please don't forget to review and favorite!**

 **TheMissMegan**


	9. The Ministry Letter

"I had zero inclination whatsoever that Geraard was a supporter of you-know-who. I want him fired _immediately_. Escort him off the property and make sure the wards no longer accept his magical signature." Draco was yelling into his cell phone. To whom, Hermione had no clue. She sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea between her palms. She stared blankly into it, not a sip taken since Draco handed it to her before making his stream of calls.

"I don't care that the auction is next week. Most of the work is practically finished. The crew can carry on without him!" He spat into the phone, irritation marring his features.

This Draco, the one who looked angry and talked to people with authority and disdain was the one Hermione had grown up with. It seemed strange to her somehow, though, for he had been nothing less than kind to her since they re-met only a few days previous. But she could still see the dregs of his past self as he yelled into the phone fifteen minutes later.

"It's still MY property! Do as I say or I'll be forced to call the authorities!" With a growl he hung up the phone and tossed it onto the couch with gusto, making it bounce off the back cushions and land softly on the rug below. His chest heaved and he had a pissed off expression.

"You really didn't need to do that. It's not like... like I'd ever see him again." She said flatly. Draco looked at her and his face softened slightly.

"It's the principle of the matter. I don't make it a habit to surround myself with death eaters or bigoted Voldemort supporters anymore if you hadn't noticed." He said angrily. "I refuse to tarnish my family's name further." Hermione lifted her gaze away from her tea and looked at him.

He stood tall in the center of her living room, shoulders squared but rising and falling with his labored breath from yelling. His cheeks were flushed, his nostrils flared slightly as he conveyed his convictions. The tendrils of his dark blonde locks fell partly into his eyes and he swept them back behind his ear in exasperation. His gray eyes pierced her own as if he could will her to accept and understand that he no longer was that cruel, prejudiced kid anymore with just a look.

Hermione stood, her chair scraping the floor as she pushed it back, and she walked towards him. Standing right in front of him, she smiled slightly and nodded slowly, sizing him up.

"Thank you." She said. He looked confused, eyebrows furrowing.

"For what?"

"For choosing to be a better person." She said. Draco flushed.

"I'm not a good person," He countered. "I've done unspeakable things-"

"Stop," Hermione placed a finger over his lips. "We've all made terrible choices at some point. What matters is how we move on from them. I'm proud of how you rose to the occasion." She said softly and let her hand fall. Draco grabbed it before it could rest by her side and gave it a squeeze. Some unspoken feeling crossed over his features and he sighed, looking defeated.

"I took that photo of you. Fifth year." He admitted. Hermione cocked her head to the side, not understanding his segway. "I saw you reading in the library like you had a thousand times before. I'm not sure if you ever noticed but... I was in that damn library just as often as you were. That day, though, something changed," His flush deepened and he averted his gaze.

"What?" Hermione still didn't get it. Why would he take her picture? What could have made him do that?

"You were completely enamored by what you were reading. You just seemed..." Draco paused, his embarrassment evident.

"Seemed what?"

"Completely content. I love reading but the sheer joy on your face..." He shook his head in something that resembled wonder and looked back up at her. "I didn't think I'd ever felt that way about anything I'd ever read. And when you left the library, you left the book behind."

Hermione felt her face grow increasingly warm at everything he was saying. But something clicked into place in the back of her mind and she looked down at his chest. Releasing her hand from his, she slipped it into the front of his jacket and grabbed hold of the book he had hidden there. Draco tensed, holding his breath. She pulled out the book and flipped it open. There, in magical ink, was the Hogwarts crest stamped into the back cover. Underneath, her name remained as the last person to check it out of the library.

She remembered losing that book, she had searched for it everywhere. It seemed preposterous to her, even back then, that she'd ever lose a book, let alone one belonging to the school. She had apologized profusely to Madam Pince and bought a new copy for the schools' library.

To think, Draco had it the entire time.

The book was completely worn like it had been read over and over. No wonder she hadn't recognized it as the copy she'd checked out. The cover was faded, almost unrecognizable. You could only tell what book it was by the title on the spine.

"So you what? Took my photo? And then my book?" She asked slowly, not daring to look at him as she tried to puzzle it out.

"I happened to have a small camera on me at the time and I didn't even think. I just took the photo. And when you left the book behind, I was curious what the fuss was about.

"I didn't mean to keep the book but I brought it home with me over the holiday break and read it. After that, it never made it back to Hogwarts again." He ran a hand through his hair again and lifted her chin up to look at him. "It was like a lifeline for me when I was at home. I'd never read Jane Austen before. As you can imagine, I wasn't allowed anything muggle related. I hid it amongst my other books and it was never disturbed by anyone but me." He said. "It literally saved me time and time again during the war." Hermione smiled shyly, not quite believing her ears.

"Jane Austen did? Really?"

"The world she paints is so real and relatable. I loved the language and how fiercely independent Elizabeth is. It made it easy to distract oneself from harsh realities." He added. Hermione nodded, understanding completely.

"But that still doesn't explain _why_ you would take my photo, though. All I was doing was reading a book; a mundane task to most people. You mentioned my expression but," Hermione couldn't comprehend a need for her picture and shook her head slightly. "I'm nothing special to look at. Especially when I'm reading." She felt like she was talking in circles. Draco scoffed, disbelief written on his face.

"You don't see it, do you?" He asked.

"See what?" Her brows knitted together, creating a small V. Draco shook his head, hair falling into his eyes once more.

"You're beautiful, Granger. Why wouldn't I want to take a photo of you?"

Hermione's breath hitched. Had _Draco Malfoy_ just called her... beautiful?

She wasn't completely unfortunate looking, she supposed. Her long, brown curls pissed her off less and less as the years passed by and she'd come to accept the dull brown of her eyes. Her lips were even proportions and she had a small smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. To her, she just seemed... plain. She never felt like she stood out to anyone as being more than that. Certainly, no one had ever said otherwise. _Until now..._

"No, I-"

"Don't say you're not. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Granger." He said and walked around her.

"Where are you going?" She asked, still rather confused. He stopped short of his room and turned.

"It's been a really long day. I think I'll turn in." He said and turned back to open the door.

"It's only five'o'clock." She said, looking at the clock on the mantel.

"True. But I was up all night working." He said, shrugging. "I'd only been to sleep an hour or so when you knocked on my door this morning."

"Oh," She said guiltily. "Sorry. I guess we could figure out some sort of routine-"

"It's fine. I often stay awake pretty late to work and read. Don't trouble yourself over my presence here. I want you to feel like you can go about things normally." He said reassuringly, shooting her a quick smile. "Goodnight," He said.

"Goodnight," Hermione replied and he clicked the door shut without another word.

Hermione felt at a loss. Despite the strange turn of events for the day, she didn't feel crippled by what she had been forced to face. Instead, she felt a little stronger; she had faced down her worst fear and come out the other side.

She felt pleasantly surprised she had enjoyed Draco's company all day and discovered a little about his life, as well. She supposed she would have to learn to accept the bad with the good. Despite who he was now, he still had a past that liked to rear its ugly head at him in unexpected ways. Between Madame Pearlman and Latif Geraard, Hermione felt sorry for the guy. He wasn't even able to relax walking down the street or trust in the people he hired for business purposes.

Life after the war hadn't been easy on anyone.

But Hermione guessed it was particularly difficult for the Malfoy's. And now that Narcissa was gone, Draco had to face it down all on his own.

No wonder Ginny said he needed to be around people. She probably meant people he could actually _trust_. Hermione couldn't agree more. She could see the strides he was taking in the way he handled himself and the situations presented to him. He could still become angered at the drop of a hat but he was more reserved to lash out. He had learned patience and kindness. Whether that was learned over time or recently with the passing of his Mother, she wasn't sure. But regardless, she was happy for him and felt much more comfortable having him there now.

Guilt sat in the pit of her stomach for mistreating the situation Ginny had thrust upon her. She had made Draco feel unwelcome in her home when he'd first arrived. But that awkward tension was gone now, so Hermione wanted to do something kind for the Slytherin who was becoming a friend in less time than she could possibly imagine.

It was still early so she decided to change her clothing, as she was still caked in dried mud, and head to the destination she had wanted to show Draco earlier that day.

Hermione apparated back to the house at half-past ten. She had gone to dinner with Harry and they stopped at a cafe afterward so she could pick out some sweets and get a coffee. He had apologized profusely for his behavior at her house.

"I just don't know what came over me." He had said. "One minute I felt fine and the next I was positively hammered. I was sure I'd only had two beers..." Hermione had laughed, stating he was becoming a lightweight in his old age.

Hermione told him about her day with Draco, even the parts she wished she could forget. He listened intently, like he always did, and almost spit out his drink at the thought of her being back in that room at Malfoy Manor.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Hermione. Malfoy should have known better." He said angrily.

"He did, though. He completely avoided that room the entire time we were there. It was Latif who tricked me into going. He was so vile. I had to hex him to get him to let go of my hand..." She recalled.

"What?!" Harry sputtered.

"Yeah. It was so surreal. I haven't had to stun anyone in quite some time." She said.

"What a bastard. You're alright, though? Want me to arrest him?" Hermione laughed lightly and shook her head.

"No, but thanks, Harry." She pecked him on the cheek as they were about to depart. "Draco fired him. I think that's punishment enough."

"He's 'Draco' now?" Harry said uncomfortably. Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, I suppose he is. Goodnight, Harry." She gave his hand one last squeeze.

"Night, 'Mione."

Now she was at home with a small box of sweets. She kicked off her shoes once she entered and put up the property wards.

She set down the box on the counter and started to scribble a note for Draco in case she didn't see him when he got them.

"You're back late." His voice startled her, causing her to jump and muck up the C in his name. She looked up and saw Draco leaning against the banister of the staircase. It didn't look like he'd slept at all.

"Yeah. I had dinner with Harry." She said and threw the piece of paper in the bin. "I brought these back for you. I hope you like macaroons." She said uncertainly, pointing to the small box of assorted cookies. Draco grinned.

"I most certainly do. What's the occasion?"

"It's a peace offering." She said, unwrapping her scarf from her neck.

"For what?" He asked and walked over to the kitchen island where she had the cookies sitting.

"For treating you poorly when you first got here. I talked to you as if you were the same, petulant kid from our school days. It was rude and I'm sorry." She shucked off her jacket next and hung the articles upon a peg by the door. When she turned back, Draco was lifting a pink macaroon up to his face in wonder.

"Do you want to know the flavors?"

"Nope. Don't tell me. I like guessing." He said and popped it into his mouth. He chewed a moment, savoring the sweet treat. A look of bliss crossed his face and he gave her a thumbs up. "Strawberry Lemonade?" He guessed. Hermione mock clapped a couple times.

"Bravo." She said and passed by him to head upstairs.

"Turning in?"

"Yes. I have dinner at the Burrow tomorrow and I need to finish drafting a proposal I need for work on Monday beforehand. Weasley dinners can last a while." She said, making her way slowly up the steps.

"Alright then. Goodnight. Again." His voice held humor.

"Goodnight... for real this time." She laughed softly before shutting her door.

"Granger!" A loud, male voice growled. Hermione was in the shower the following morning and jumped, startled, at hearing the voice just outside her bathroom door.

"What?" She asked, annoyed.

"You've got a visitor who won't leave. Hurry up!" He demanded and seemed to leave.

Hermione wondered who it could be. She wasn't expecting company today. Draco seemed agitated at whoever it was so she hurried her shower along.

Ten minutes later, she had put on the first pair of leggings and tshirt she happened upon and let her hair hang damp down her back as she rushed down the stairs.

"Percy?" She asked uncertainly, unable to hide her surprise. "What're you doing here?"

Percy Weasley stood uncertainly next to the front door, his wand in his hand at his side. His knuckles were white from gripping it so tightly. Draco was sitting on the couch, appearing unaffected by the hostile looks Percy gave him.

"Hermione," He nodded stiffly. "So you're aware Malfoy is here?"

"Of course. Your sister invited him to stay, Percy." She said and he looked instantly displeased. Before he could say anything else, Hermione strode forward a few more steps and smiled. "Come in, please, I can make us some tea-"

"Can't stay, sorry. I just came to deliver this," He handed her an envelope. It had a Ministry of Magic seal on the back and her name in curly, neat script on the front. She took it hesitantly.

"A letter from the Ministry? Why wouldn't they just owl it to me? Or wait until I go to work tomorrow?" She asked.

"The subject matter is sensitive. They thought you'd prefer to have someone you're familiar with delivering it." He said coldly, still staring down the blonde man on her couch.

"Should I open it now?"

"It's for the best that you do," Percy said. Draco looked up curiously. Hermione ripped the envelope open and began reading.

 _Miss Hermione Granger,_

 _You recently came into contact with a wizard by the name of Latif Geraard. It has come to the attention of the Ministry that you assaulted him on April the twentieth at 4:02pm. This is a summons to discuss the consequences of your actions in performing the stunning spell in question against him in an unprovoked manner. As you're well aware, it is against the law to assault anyone in any manner, including but not limited to: hexes and physical harm._

 _Failure to appear at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on Monday the twenty-second at 8am for questioning will result in an immediate warrant for your arrest._

 _Regards,_

 _Kingsley Shacklebolt_

 _Minister of Magic_

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.

Kingsley had basically sent her a warrant for her arrest. The wording he used made it seem otherwise, but she could tell charges were being pressed against her for her encounter with Latif the day prior.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, concern etched in his features. He walked over to stand by her side and she angled the letter towards him. The wave of shock quickly turned to anger. How could Latif do this? He had been the one to force her into that room; he had held her hand so tightly...

"This is ridiculous!" Hermione said.

"Do you understand the letter?" Percy asked.

"Of course I do," She shot him a nasty look. "I'm not an invalid."

"What could have come over you, Hermione? I thought you knew better than this," Percy accused, appearing annoyed at her.

"It was much deserved, Weasley. Don't question her." Draco said through clenched teeth. Percy barely registered his words.

"Don't be late tomorrow," Percy said simply and turned to leave. Before he did, he said over his shoulder. "If you're going to be friends with and act like the enemy now, don't bother coming around the Burrow for dinner anymore. Mum would be ashamed of you." He left her in a stunned silence.

Draco reread the letter once more before tossing it onto a nearby end table.

"We'll sort this out, Hermione. They've only got one person's point of view."

"I suppose," She said quietly.

"Don't let that Percy asshole get to you! He's always been an insufferable little-"

"Please don't," Hermione closed her eyes, willing the tears forming to go away. "He's a prat but he's still family, Draco."

"He's not your family," Draco snorted. "He's a Weasley, you're a Granger." He said matter-of-factly.

"They're all I've got, Malfoy!" She said angrily. He didn't understand; couldn't understand.

"I'm back to being Malfoy now?" He asked, anger dripping from his words. When she didn't reply right away, he turned away from her and sat back down on the couch where his work was fanned out everywhere. He huffed a bit as he took a sip from a cup and tried to go back to what he had been doing before Percy showed up. He was unable to concentrate, though, and threw papers back down. "I can't understand what you won't explain. You're angry, I can tell. I know it's somewhat residual from that summons but I expect it's more than that." He prodded.

Hermione finally looked at him and sighed.

"It's really not a big deal." She said and walked the length of the living room.

"I'll put in a call to a few people about tomorrow," Draco said, still frustrated.

"Don't bother. I'll call Harry," She said as she took the stairs two at a time and ran back to her room.

Several hours of work later, Hermione opted to finally call Harry. His reaction had been exactly what she expected. Surprise and anger radiated in his tone as she relayed the letter.

"When you told me you had stunned him, I hadn't really expected to hear anything else about it. Technically, it's assault. But I didn't think he'd press any charges. Once you explain what happened, I'm sure they'll be dropped." He reassured her. "I'll talk with who took the statement and see what we're dealing with."

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione let out a relieved sigh, feeling slightly better. It helped to have a Senior Auror in your corner at times. Not that she'd ever been in any sort of trouble like this before.

"Anything for you," He said. "You coming to dinner?"

"That's the other thing..." She proceeded to tell him about her interaction with Percy and Harry let out a sound of disgust.

"He's been nothing but bitter since the war. Don't take what he said seriously. Molly couldn't ever be ashamed of any of us. She can get pretty fired up at times, but she'd never consider any of her kids a disappointment, Hermione." He said.

"As Draco pointed out so kindly, I'm not really a Weasley. Especially not since Ron and I split. Maybe the courtesy won't extend like that for very much longer." Her self-doubt was starting to eat at her and she hated it. She'd never really been a very confident person when it came to personal matters.

"Malfoy has been raised quite differently from us, 'Mione. He doesn't understand that family can extend to people you aren't blood-related to." Harry said firmly. "Does he know about your parents?"

"No," She said quickly. "I don't think he needs to know."

"He might understand you better. Not that I'm itching for you guys to be friends." He laughed humorlessly.

"Maybe I'll tell him... some other time."

"Sounds like avoidance," Harry said.

"It's self-preservation. I hate discussing it. You know that." She argued.

"You have to face the music sooner or later." He said sadly. "Come to dinner tonight, though. Get your mind off of everything."

"Harry-"

"Hermione. You need to be around family right now. You haven't been to a dinner in months." He said. His comment brought up what Ginny had said about Draco needing to be around people, too.

"If I go, Draco is coming, too." She said.

"I don't think that's a great idea." He sounded frustrated.

"He's going through a lot right now, too." She defended. "I'm not going without him."

"It's not like you need _my_ permission. I was just mentioning it might not be—"

"See you tonight," Hermione said finally. "Goodbye." And she hung up.

She felt a little bad unloading on Harry like that but at least she knew he was on her side in all things. He'd be a good buffer for dinner should things go south.

"Shouldn't you ask someone's permission before you agree to things for them, Granger?" Draco asked from where he stood, perched next to her doorjamb. She hadn't heard him coming upstairs but that seemed typical. He was a fairly quiet houseguest.

"We're going to the Burrow for dinner." She said.

"I don't think I'll be welcome." He said, discomfort crossing his features.

"We're friends now, Draco. And we both need to be around people who are good for us. I believe most of the Weasley's are on friendly terms with you these days. It shouldn't be that bad." She said and opened her closet door to rake through the different clothes that hung on hangers. He stood there, indecision apparent but looking a little lighter since she used his first name again.

Hermione ignored his presence and grabbed out a maroon a-line dress that had three-quarter sleeves and stopped just short of her knees. She held it up to her figure, examining herself in the mirror.

"Don't be obvious, Hermione," Draco said and closed the distance between them.

"What do you mean?"

"Gryffindor red? Tsk." He flipped through some of her wardrobe and tugged on a pink chiffon dress. "You still have this?" He asked and pulled out her dress from the Yule Ball. She snatched it out of his hands.

"Of course! The thing cost my parents a small fortune and I had such an amazing time in it... that is," She hesitated. "That is until Ron ruined the night for me." She looked at the dress in pity. "Maybe I _should_ get rid of it."

"Nah," Draco took it back and reinserted it into her closet. "Memories are important."

"I guess," She mumbled. Draco flicked through more clothing until he found something he liked and pulled it out, handing it to her.

It was a dress she bought on a shopping trip with Ginny last summer. It had been purchased on a whim when the younger witch insisted Hermione had to get something while they were out. Hermione grabbed the first thing she saw that wasn't completely hideous and bought it without thinking. The tags were still on it, never to be worn or thought of again. Until today, apparently.

"Nope. Not wearing that."

"Why" This is pretty," He said, pointing to it. Hermione re-examined it and shrugged.

"It's not really me."

"Is that so? I thought women liked being adventurous with their style at times."

"This was one of those things you buy without thinking or trying on but never wear. It was a Ginny purchase." She said, side-eyeing the little black dress like it frightened her.

"Fine, another time then," Draco said and dug back in the closet. This time he picked a winner and Hermione was grateful for the conservative nature of what he chose. It was a simple navy blue print dress with paisleys on it. It had a small ruffle lining on the bottom and capped sleeves.

"Perfect, thank you." She smiled cheesily and went to the bathroom to dress while Draco waited. When she came back, he was sitting on the edge of her bed, flipping through more papers.

"Is that my book again?" She asked nervously. Draco magicked it away and shrugged.

"Maybe," He said nonchalantly. She gave him a look but didn't respond.

She had applied some product to her hair to define the curls and put on some light makeup while she had been in the bathroom. She hadn't seen most of the other Weasley's in a while and wanted to look her best. As if he could read her thoughts, Draco spoke up.

"You look nice," He said, noting her small changes. She smiled a little and slipped her feet into a pair of flats.

"Is that what you're wearing?" She asked, pointing out his sweatpants.

"I never agreed to go with you, if you don't recall." He said, rolling his eyes at her pointed look of disapproval.

"I can't make you, I suppose." She said glumly.

"Why do you want me to go so badly?" He tilted his head slightly as if trying to figure her out with one look.

"I don't want to leave you alone here." She said quietly, putting a pair of studs in her ears as she leaned down towards her vanity to check they looked okay. Draco paused before a sneer appeared.

"You don't trust me in your house? Still?" He asked and got up to walk out of her room. Hermione balked at his assumption and turned to catch his arm at the crook of his elbow, effectively stopping him.

"You misunderstand," She said hurriedly. "That's not what I was getting at-"

"Then what could you have meant?" He asked, fury in his eyes.

"I can't leave you here _alone_ , Draco." She said, trying to make him understand. He looked bewildered, hurt still evident. She was going to have to spell it out. "Your Mother just died. I could never... _would never_... leave you here alone while I traipsed off to a family dinner." Draco blinked. Each flutter of a lid brought forth a different emotion to what she was saying. Confusion. Understanding. Sadness. Anger.

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity. It's..." She couldn't find the right words.

"Then what?" He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Hermione hesitated. She had just told Harry she didn't think Draco needed to know about her parents. But could she convey what she had meant without telling him?

"I just meant that I understand what you must be feeling. I wouldn't want to be alone," she said.

"How could you possibly-"

"I just do. Trust me." She insisted.

"I don't understand." He said.

"Just... come to dinner. It'd really help me out, anyways," Hermione grabbed a jean jacket off the back of a chair.

"I doubt that." He scoffed and left the room. She could hear him make his way down to his room and slam the door closed.

Hermione was disappointed. She had hoped he'd come with her. In the days that had past, she had grown to enjoy his company. She couldn't stand to think of him sitting there alone in her house while she left to have a good time.

If he wasn't going to go, neither was she, she decided.

Hermione went downstairs and sat in the middle of the couch, arms crossed and leaning back. She probably looked like she was pouting. And she sort of was. But she'd prove her point. She waited there for almost twenty minutes when Draco's door finally swung open and revealed him dressed and ready to go out.

"What're you doing?" He asked.

"If you're not going, I won't, either." She said. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course I'm going, you daft woman. Let's go," He pointed to the fireplace. She jumped up, a smile stretching across her face.

"We have to apparate, actually." She mentioned and held out her hand. Draco paused as he was about to take it.

"You would have stayed here if I hadn't gone?" He asked.

"Of course." She replied. He stared at her a moment longer than she felt necessary, trying to figure out how he felt about that. She waited as patiently as she could and a moment later he took a hold of her hand and gave her an encouraging smile.

She nodded once and closed her eyes. She envisioned the Burrow in all it's mismatched glory and felt that familiar tug at her middle.

 **Another chapter, fresh off the presses! (Kind of.) I sure hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Thank you to those who began following and favoriting!**

 **TheMissMegan**


	10. Dinner at the Burrow

**Hullo, everyone! I hope you're enjoying all the chapters this week! I'm just so excited to share the story with you, I broke my own rule about once weekly updates. A thing I want to mention: I suck at French. With that being said, I'm worse with accents. In writing and real life. So I apologize if you have a hard time understanding Fluer in this chapter and any more to come with her in them.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **TheMissMegan**

"You know, I've pictured this place many times but... I don't think anything I could imagine would have ever been close to what it actually looks like." Draco said, not unkindly. once their feet hit the ground a ways away from the Burrow. A field of tall green grass blew gently in the breeze all around them. Hermione could smell the water of the pond nearby. Frogs sang in the early evening as they made their way up the path to the house.

It was just as she remembered it from years past. The house was exactly the same. It appeared almost in shambles but Hermione knew better. They followed the path around to the front and she rapped on the door a couple times before turning the knob without being invited in.

"Shouldn't we wait for someone to answer the door?" Draco asked nervously and she gave him a sarcastic expression.

"Would _you_ knock on your own family's front door?" She asked. He didn't get a chance to answer for she had walked right into the home.

"Hermione!" An older woman squeaked out and instantly engulfed her in a hug that made the air rush from her lungs.

"Molly, how lovely to see you!" Hermione gushed and held on tight to the woman who had been a surrogate mother to her for years. Molly Weasley held her out at arm's length and examined her, touching her cheeks and hair.

"You get lovelier each time I see you!" Molly said with a big smile. Hermione blushed at the compliment but said nothing. Molly looked past her shoulder and her smile fell a fraction, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't family.

"Welcome to my home, Draco." She said tightly, trying to sound welcoming but falling a little short.

"Thank you for having me," Draco said formally and inclined his head in respect. Molly nodded once and turned her attention back to Hermione.

"The boys are out back playing that god-awful game again. Dinner will be ready soon." She said.

"Do you need any help?" Hermione offered.

"Your cooking has become a delight to behold, dear, but I've got it under control. Please, grab a drink and enjoy yourselves." Molly replied, making it evident she meant the comment for both of them. Hermione smiled at her again and grabbed a couple wine glasses and a bottle of wine from the counter.

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione affectionately joked and they went out back.

"'Mum?'" Draco asked quietly.

"She practically is." Hermione grinned.

Outside, Lavender and Fleur were sitting in lawn chairs accompanied by Percy. Arthur, who was holding a small baby boy in his arms while two older girls were sitting around him, was recounting a wild story to them. George, Harry, Charlie, Ron, and Bill were flying above. It really hit home how much Hermione had missed them all and how much she wished Ginny were here.

"Hullo everyone," Hermione called out and came to stand near the womenfolk.

"Er-my-nee!" Fleur exclaimed and smiled up at her. "I'm so 'appy you could come!"

"Me, too," Hermione said. Arthur had made his way over to her with Bill and Fleur's youngest, Louis, in his arms and pulled her in for a one-armed hug. Baby Louis giggled and tried to put a lock of Hermione's hair in his mouth. She felt the tug, like something rubber, had been caught up and started yanking hairs out. "Ow, Louis!" Hermione laughed.

"Wait, hold one," Arthur said and fiddled with the child's hand to detach her from him and released the lock a moment later. "There, now, all better." He said but Louis looked disappointed. "Merlin, Fleur, he looks like you when he does that!"

"'E ees my son," She beamed up at the baby, who was not even a year old yet. She reached out for him and Arthur relinquished the small boy.

"It's so good to have you here," Arthur said, now able to focus more on Hermione. He even smiled his most cordial smile at Draco, who had been watching on in mild fascination, and grabbed his hand to shake it.

"Welcome, my boy, welcome." He said and Draco couldn't hide his surprise or the smile that came from it.

"Thank you for having me," He echoed the same sentiment from earlier and Arthur clapped him on the back.

"The pleasure is ours. Any friend of Ginny and Hermione's is a friend to this family." He said.

"They're definitely special to trifle with someone like me," Draco said, his self-depreciation obviously a coping tactic in uncomfortable situations. Hermione bumped him with her hip and shook her head. He shrugged. "It's true."

"Do you still play?" Someone called from above. "Because I'm in the mood to kick some ass today," Bill called down.

"Me?" Draco asked, pointing to himself.

"Well, I'm definitely not talking about Hermione. She's rubbish at Quidditch." He laughed. Hermione stuck out her tongue and the rest of the men flying above laughed, too.

"Ginny isn't here so we need another player to make the teams even," Charlie said.

"Not that you could live up to her standards," George teased. "She _is_ a Harpy, after all."

"He played a season with the Chudley Canons," Ron piped up. "He can't be that bad."

"What? How did I not know this?" Hermione turned to him. He tried to hide his smug smile.

"I didn't continue it. Stuff came up. I had to quit but... I was pretty good. And I can't just blab all my secrets to you," He winked and walked over to collect a broom leaning on the side of the shed. He walked passed Percy, who was giving Hermione a sour expression. When Draco went to mount the broom he'd picked out, Percy got up and went back into the house. She decided to ignore him. He'd obviously been wrong about how his family would react to having Malfoy as her friend.

"You sure you don't want to play?" Draco asked her teasingly, kicking off from the ground to join the others.

"Um, no." She shook her head vigorously.

"Don't tempt her, Malfoy," Harry said. "Last time she gathered her courage enough to play, she injured everyone."

"Everyone, Potter? That's got to be an exaggeration." Draco laughed.

"Not even a little bit," Charlie snickered. "She broke my nose."

"And my arm," Ron said.

"She set my broom on fire," Harry added, tossing the quaffle to Bill.

"And knocked me clean off of mine. My ass was bruised for weeks." Bill said.

"Ginny came out of that match with _only a scratch on her face_ ," Ron mentioned.

"But of course, she was the most pissed off." Geroge rolled his eyes. "Even though my eyebrows were singed!"

"That's because you don't screw with a woman's face!" Lavender yelled up at them.

"Exactly." Fleur agreed.

"Her wrath, I deserved. The rest of you were babies," Hermione smirked as she sat between the two women. Fleur had poured her some wine and they all clinked glasses in salute to her comment.

"You're savage, Granger!" Draco called out.

"And don't you forget it, Malfoy!" She called back.

"How long has Draco been staying at your place now?" Lavender asked while the guys played Quidditch.

"I've officially known since Friday but his first night there was Thursday," Hermione said as she finished off her first glass of wine.

"You deedn't know 'e was 'zere?" Fleur asked quirking a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"Nope. Ginny didn't mention it. He surprised the hell out of me the next morning."

"I'll say," Lavender said. "How do you stand it? He never said anything to me back at school but he was always a big prat to almost everyone. Especially you."

"Draco's changed," Hermione said and heaved a big sigh. "It's strange to even admit." Fleur poured her more wine and smirked.

"I 'ope you're right about zat." She said. "Because 'e 'azn't taken hees eyes off of you zis 'ole time."

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and she looked up towards the men zooming around. Draco was playing seeker and had his gaze roaming around the area looking for the snitch. Every so often, his eyes would fall on her and he'd smile. "He's just looking for the snitch, Fleur." She assured the pretty blonde. Fleur shrugged.

"I saw what I saw."

"He _is_ easy on the eyes, I'll give him that," Lavender added. Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"We're just friends, you guys. Simmer down." She mentioned.

"Ron and I were just friends once, too." Lavender elbowed Hermione's arm gently a couple times and laughed lightly. Hermione laughed along with her. It was nice that most of the animosity between her and Lavender had mostly dissipated.

"Alright, you lot! Dinner is ready!" Molly called out the back door and Hermione peaked over her shoulder back at the house. Fleur's girls ran into the house from the garden, giggling the whole way.

The boys touched down to the ground one by one. Harry shoved Draco's chest in mock frustration about some aspect of the game and Draco laughed loudly, thumping Harry on the back. Hermione looked on in amusement until they came to stand in front of her.

"What's with the face?" Draco asked, still smiling. Hermione shook her head.

"Nothing,"

"There's never 'nothing' in that brain of yours," Harry mentioned and passed them by to drop off his broom. Everyone started to migrate towards the outside mud sink to wash up, knowing Molly would demand it. Draco held out his hand and helped Hermione to her feet.

"You looked like you were having fun," She said as they mosied towards the house.

"I was. I haven't played Quidditch in some time." He admitted, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Me neither," She said and gave him an amused expression. He laughed.

"Now that I've heard how you play, I'm not surprised!" He washed his hands and they went inside.

"I don't hurt people on purpose!" She argued. "I'm just terrified of the whole game so my magic comes out in weird ways when I play."

"You should overcome your fears. You might actually have fun if you do." He said, letting her lead him through the house.

"I enjoy observing." She said, even though that wasn't always the case. She mainly enjoyed just being around the people she cared about if they played. Usually, everyone talked a lot of trash and had a good time.

Hermione walked up to the dining room and went to sit next to Molly. Draco surprised her by pulling out her chair. She gave him a look of appreciation but she internally found it odd. Maybe it was because no one had pulled a chair out for her in years... or maybe it had something to do with what Fleur mentioned. Hermione chalked it up to him wanting to make a good impression.

Draco sat down and waited for the meal to begin. He looked stiff and uncomfortable again. His back was straight and his hands rested in his lap. Hermione knew the family aspect of the dinner would be the hardest for him to deal with. Not just because he didn't really have much family left but because of this family in particular. The Weasley's and the Malfoy's had a long, awful history that dated back to before anyone in the room was even born. She couldn't blame the guy for being nervous.

Once everyone was seated, Molly gestured to the food and inclined her head.

"You can all tuck in now."

All at once, the clattering of cutlery and plates mingled in with conversation, laughter, and looks of appreciation at the delicious feast in front of them.

Hermione started dishing up and handing off plates to everyone. The dishes were shared by passing them around the table. Draco looked famished as he took one bite and couldn't stop himself from practically diving head first into the meal.

"It's good, right?" She asked him. He merely nodded, unable to vocalize how much he agreed.

Molly caught Hermione's eye and gave her a small smile of encouragement before pouring the girl more wine.

"So, how have you been, dear? We haven't seen you in ages." She asked and put another mince pie on Hermione's plate as well.

"I've been great," Hermione said. "Just hard at work for the Ministry."

"I feel like I don't get to see you very often there, Hermione," Arthur mentioned.

"You know me. I keep so busy. A lot of my job includes research and investigation. If I'm not at the office, I'm in the field somewhere."

"I never pegged you for much of an investigator," Draco mentioned, not unkindly. "More bookish than anything." Ron snorted.

"She was the _main_ investigator of the three of us back during the war. We wouldn't have really solved anything without her." Ron said. Draco raised a brow.

"I know she's intelligent but I assumed Potter was the one getting into the most trouble." He said.

"Ron and Hermione were there for most of it," Harry mentioned, smiling at his two best friends. "She was the one who did the most actual digging and footwork, though. Really, she should have become an Auror." Harry mentioned.

"No no, I could never be an Auror, Harry, you know that." Hermione shook her head from side to side.

"You would have been a superb Auror," Bill agreed with Harry. "But we understand your love of creature rights in the wizarding community and respect it."

"Not to mention her aptitude for writing," Draco mentioned and took a bite of his dinner. The Weasley's were all quiet for a moment before Draco looked up. They all looked at him like he grew a second head. Hermione's fork had stopped midair and she cut Draco an accusing expression. She felt her cheeks turning pink and lowered her fork, mortified. "I'm sorry, was it something I said?" Draco asked, genuinely confused and looking almost panicked.

"Writing?" Charlie asked. "Are you writing a book, 'Mione?"

"Of course not, she would have told us," Ron said, waving his hand in the air as if it were nonsense. Hermione looked down at her plate.

Draco didn't know she hadn't been open with them about writing. She'd only told Harry because she valued his opinion. And Ginny knew because they lived together. Writing was something private that she didn't share with anyone. She wouldn't have even tried to get published if she hadn't met Charlotte that day at the Magicafe.

She planned on telling them about her writing endeavors if she actually got published. What if Draco didn't like her story and rejected her opportunity to publish? She'd be humiliated at her failure. Hermione didn't fail. She couldn't.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice brought her back to attention. She glanced over to him under her eyelashes and he looked at her with understanding.

"So it's true," Molly said. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I think it's private," Bill mentioned. "Writing often is."

"You could have confided in us, 'Mione. We're family, after all." Charlie smiled at her. She shook her head.

"It's not that I didn't want to tell you,"

"It shouldn't be such a big deal. It's not like you're being published or-" Ron began.

"Actually, her book is currently in the works of publication review," Harry interjected. Hermione cut him a look that said, _stop it_.

"That's wonderful!" Molly said. "Are you still writing those darling little romance novels?"

 _Crap._

Hermione had completely forgotten she used to confide her writing interests to Molly back at school. She'd have her read the little chapters she'd come up with to see if they were any good. Molly loved romance novels so she was a good test audience.

" _Romance novels?_ " George snickered. The other boys followed suit. Except for Harry and Draco. They looked at her with a mixture of pity and frustration.

"Romance or not, she's a fantastic writer," Draco said, trying to take the attention off her. Hermione's surprise at hearing him admit it was shortlived.

"And how would you know?" Percy asked snarkily.

"He's my publisher," Hermione said. Harry's mouth opened in surprise. She hadn't even told him about her encounter with Draco at Olympus on Friday.

"Draco, mate, I knew you worked in publishing but..." George started but didn't finish his thought.

"I actually own part of the Olympus Publishing House in London." Draco smiled weakly. "An associate of mine brought Hermione's book to my attention." Harry looked like he was putting two and two together and a light was going off in his mind.

"When you said you weren't prepared for your meeting on Friday...?" He asked. Hermione nodded.

"It was because I had no clue he'd be my publisher. It was a complete surprise." She took a long pull of wine and the others exchanged quiet looks. It was Lavender who finally broke the awkward silence.

"So... how's her book so far, Malfoy?" She asked.

"Like I said, she's a great writer. That's all I can discuss at the moment." He smiled. Hermione internally groaned. She'd never hear the end of this.

"So... I suppose you _should_ have a thing or two tucked away for bedroom dance parties after all," George teased. "With you being a smutty _romance novelist_."

"Hey now," Arthur chided. "No smut talk at the table, boys."

"Did I miss something?" Charlie grinned and George chuckled.

"Only that Hermione here is a bit of a-"

"George," Harry warned. "She'll hex your bullocks off." Draco snorted.

"I have no clue what you're talking about but Hermione has always struck me as a bit... tight-laced," Bill mentioned. Fleur gasped and smacked his arm.

"Zat ees your seester!" She scolded. "Be'ave!" All the men laughed again and Hermione stood abruptly.

"Excuse me," She mumbled and walked out of the dining room.

"Oh, come on Hermione! We were just teasing!" George laughed.

Hermione planted herself in the next room on one of the many couches. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, leaning back. She could still hear the others conversation pretty clearly but tried to ignore it. She knew telling them anything about this was a mistake.

A short time later, Molly was up doing dishes in the kitchen and Arthur had offered to help Fleur take the kids back to Shell Cottage to put them down for the night. That left the others to sit and laugh and drink together. Hermione stayed on the couch.

"I wish she wouldn't get so uptight about these things," Bill said from the dining room. Hermione listened in now that they were talking about her again.

"You know how she is," Percy piped up. "She's quite reserved."

"Not really," Harry said. "At least, not anymore."

"She's definitely different these days." Ron agreed.

"You were with her for some time, Ronnie-kins, how was she back then?" George used his smarmy tone and she could hear Lavender mutter profanities at him and declare she was leaving. Hermione heard the kitchen door as proof and Ron swore.

"Thanks, George!"

"She's been your girlfriend for quite some time now. I don't know why she still gets so butthurt over you and Hermione dating." Geroge said in his own defense. "But seriously... how _was_ our little Hermione back then? Any truth to her naughty drawer claim?"

"What're you on about?" Charlie asked.

"She has a _naughty drawer?_ Of what?" Bill asked salaciously.

"I don't want to talk about—"

"Oh come on, Ron! You have you tell you brothers about your sex life. It's like an unwritten rule." George goaded.

"I think it's disrespectful," Percy said.

"There's nothing to tell!" Ron burst out. Hermione felt flush with humiliation.

"Nothing, eh Ron?" Bill said.

"Of course there isn't. We didn't... she wasn't-"

"You two never?" Charlie asked.

"No," Ron said with a finality to his voice. He sounded mortified. Hermione couldn't blame him... it's exactly how she was feeling.

"But with Lavender-"

"It's different. I love Lavender." Ron said quietly, almost too quiet for Hermione to hear. Their conversation had taken a turn that would surely hurt her feelings. She almost got up to leave right then.

Percy strode into the living room at that moment and paused upon seeing her.

"I thought you might have gone home." He said flatly.

"Nope." She replied, still reeling from the conversation in the dining room.

"Are you angry with me from earlier?" He asked, his tone sounded a little more human this time. Hermione shrugged one shoulder, not responding for fear of starting a fight. Percy was often a combative person. In school, it was fun to have intelligent banter with him. After the war, she avoided speaking to him as much as possible. He heaved a sigh. "I can't forgive him. Or his family. That's my choice."

"That has nothing to do with me," Hermione said. He looked away, frustrated.

"Of course it does. Your association with him causes me pain."

"How so?"

"Because you brought him to my family's home, Hermione. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before you or Ginny invited him here. I can't stand it!" He threw up his hands. "It's because of people like him that Fred is gone! Tonks and Lupin and-"

"Stop it, Percy," Hermione stood up, angry red blotches appeared on her face. "Just stop it." Her frustration stemmed not only from all the boys talking about her sex life (or lack thereof) in the kitchen, but also Percy's intolerant behavior and unforgiving nature. He'd hurt her feelings earlier and showed absolutely no remorse. Now he seemed to be attacking her choice to forgive and move on and she wouldn't stand for it.

"I'm simply telling the truth, Hermione."

"No, you're not. You're being hateful, as usual." She accused. "Draco made mistakes. We _all_ did during that war. Including _you_!" She pointed. If her words upset him, he didn't show it. His face was always such a blank slate, void of emotion.

"My mistakes didn't get anyone killed." He said.

"That you know of." Hermione countered. "We forgave you for all that you had done to betray this family, Percy. Why do you deserve redemption and he doesn't?"

"What's going on you guys?" Charlie stepped into the room and stood between the two. He was followed by the others. Draco stood near the doorway, a look of awkward tension all over his face. They'd obviously heard their conversation as easily as she'd heard the boys earlier.

"It's nothing," Percy said and turned to leave.

"That's the last time you turn your back on me, Percy Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed loudly. He turned back, his brows furrowed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"We used to be good friends in school. When you betrayed us all for your growing position in the Ministry, I was extremely hurt. You traded your integrity for higher rank and worked for those in league with Voldemort for quite some time before deciding to grow a conscious and come back to us with your tail between your legs." She said, tilting her chin up as she spoke to him. "Every chance you get, you still try to throw your superiority in our faces. Mine, in particular."

"That's not true." He said, looking like she'd slapped him.

"It is. And I'm sick of it. Please don't come to my home anymore. And stay away from me at the Ministry and family gatherings. I don't have room in my life for someone who only breeds hate." She said.

"Hermione, that's a bit harsh..." Bill said, touching her arm.

"No. What's harsh is discussing a woman's sex life with your brothers in the next room and laughing about it." She spat. Bill recoiled. The others had the decency to appear ashamed. Even George couldn't joke about that.

"Hermione, it's time to go," Draco said firmly and walked over to her side.

"You don't decide things for her!" Percy hissed.

"You're right, I don't. But she's got a point and she's pretty pissed off. It'd be best if I took her home to simmer down before she makes any more speeches." Draco looked her in the eyes. "Ready?" Hermione's nostrils were flared and she felt ready to kill someone

"Yeah." She simply said.

"Give your parents our regards for the meal," Draco said to the Weasley gang and pulled her out the door by her hand. "Where's a good apparation point?" He asked quietly as they walked out into the dark night.

"Over there," Hermione pointed towards the path. Draco dragged her behind him and sighed.

"I'm sorry," He said.

"What for?" She asked grumpily.

"A lot of things... but having to defend me is what I'm apologizing for at the moment."

Hermione pulled on his hand to stop him. He turned back and looked at her expectantly.

"Percy knew better." She said.

"What?"

"You didn't know better back then, at first. He did. He came from a loving, tolerant family and had every opportunity to stay the course. He chose darkness. You were born into it." She squeezed his hand. "There's a difference." She willed him to understand.

Draco stared at her, a sense of wonder touching his eyes. Hermione gave him a weak smile.

"You're so good." He whispered.

"Hmm?"

"You're just... so good." He said a little louder. He sounded bewildered. "I don't understand how someone like you can exist and be so wonderful towards someone like me."

His sentiments made her blush and it was her turn to lead him to the apparation point.

"You underestimate yourself. And overestimate me." She said and stood still a moment, picturing her house clearly in her mind. They apparated a second later and landed in her living room.

"I think I'll head up to bed." She dropped his hand and began walking towards the stairwell. Draco took two large strides to stop her and grabbed her forearm, spinning her around.

"I have _never_ overestimated you." He said seriously. Hermione's breath caught at being so close to him and hearing his tone. It was low; almost edgy, like it held all sorts of meaning behind it. What that meaning was, she had no clue. But her eyes averted from his, unable to take the intensity, and traveled down to his lips. They were parted slightly and she could smell the sweet scent of the wine still on his breath. Her thoughts wandered dangerously back to her conversation with Fleur and Lavender. They seemed to think he'd been watching her. He _had_ seemed rather attentive most of the evening. To consider the idea of Draco Malfoy paying any sort of close attention to her seemed laughable, though.

"Stop that," He said softly.

"Huh?" She looked back up. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as he spoke.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Are you that oblivious of your own features?" He practically growled. Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Maybe..." She said. As if the spell between them had broken, he stepped back. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight. It didn't go as badly as I anticipated."

"Any time." She offered. "I know the others will warm up to you in their own ways. It just takes time."

"We'll see," He said. "I'm supposed to head in early to work tomorrow for a meeting. I can try to push it back if you want me to come down to the Ministry with you?"

Hermione groaned. She had forgotten about her meeting at the Ministry in the morning. She'd pushed her own work at her department to the afternoon specifically for that reason. Tomorrow was sure to be a long day.

"I'll be alright. I'm sure once I explain myself it'll be smoothed over." She said, not really sure if she believed her own words.

"I'm just an owl away if they need a statement from me." He said. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight." She replied and headed up to bed.


	11. False Accusation

Hermione rushed through her morning routine. She couldn't stomach food so she merely slipped on a knee-length black dress, tied her hair back and grabbed her suitcase before heading through the floo to the Ministry. She checked the time and noticed she had a few minutes before her meeting. She stopped off at the small coffee cart near the fountain at the center of the large entry hall and picked up a latte before entering into one of the lifts.

"Hermione!" Harry was in the back. There was a horde of people grouped in the lift, making it impossible for Hermione to join him.

"Morning, Harry." She said and squeezed in so the lift doors could close. A couple stops later, she was finally able to stand next to him.

"I'm glad you've got your morning jolt because the shit is going to hit the fan." He muttered to her, so the other people surrounding them wouldn't hear. Hermione whipped her head to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"That Geraard fellow is connected. That's why you got a letter from Kingsley and not Brunt." Harry said, referring to his boss, Ned Brunt, who was the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Hermione felt her hands start to clam up, despite holding the warm beverage.

"Who is he connected to?" She asked nervously.

"Dunno. We'll find out soon enough." He said and the lift dinged to signal their floor.

Hermione regretted the heels she wore as she walked on wobbly feet next to Harry. As they made their way through the department, a few of the Aurors she knew waved and greeted her. The entire floor had extensive offices, cubicles, questioning lounges and a few holding areas for criminals.

"We're meeting in one of the conference rooms," Harry mumbled, pointing to a room with large windows that showcased a long conference table that had several chairs around it. Hermione could see that Latif was already in there speaking with Kingsley and another man she didn't know. Latif smirked smugly upon seeing her through the glass and raised a hand in mock greeting, twiddling his fingers in the air. Hermione internally recoiled, remembering his awful tone of excitement at her fear back at the Manor.

Harry opened the door and gestured her through first, then followed close behind, shutting the door as he entered.

"Potter, what're you doing here?" The unfamiliar man asked her friend.

"Brunt asked me to be here," Harry said.

"For a simple questioning? That's a bit absurd." The man, who reminded Hermione of a weasel, scoffed.

"What's absurd is the charges, Jefferson. She shouldn't even be here." Harry said firmly, glaring at Latif. The man said nothing but kept a smirk plastered on his face as he eyed Hermione.

"Why don't we wait until Brunt gets here?" Kingsley suggested in his deep, rich voice and everyone settled into silence. Hermione sipped her coffee, having nothing else to occupy her, and stood awkwardly to the side.

Captain Brunt strode in a few minutes later with a stern expression. His walrus mustache twitched disapprovingly at the group gathered and set his eyes firmly on Latif.

"You can go outside for now," He spoke firmly. "You as well, Jefferson."

"Sir, we should be present-"

"No, Jefferson, you should not. Hermione Granger is a _war heroin_ and will be treated with the utmost respect." Brunt barked at him then turned his gaze on Latif. "You may have connections, sir, but your Great Aunt is not the only one with weight to throw around." Latif shot daggers with his eyes but didn't argue. He and Jefferson exited the room swiftly.

"Sit down, Hermione," Kingsley said, gesturing to the chair next to the header seat where he plopped down. Brunt took the seat in front of her and Harry sat on her left.

"Who is this Aunt that has connections?" Harry asked, looking from Brunt to Kingsley.

"Let's get down to the point of this heinous meeting." Brunt said. "Miss Granger, please tell us what happened between you and Mr. Geraard."

"Of course," Hermione said and launched into her story of meeting Latif. She mentioned how pleasant he seemed towards her, at first, and how his demeanor drastically changed once they entered that blasted drawing room at Malfoy Manor.

It had been no secret what she endured there. Everyone in the Auror Department knew of her battle there and what significance it held if she ever went back.

"Why were you even there, Hermione? I thought you'd never step foot in that place again?" Kingsley asked sympathetically.

"It was a favor to Draco Malfoy." She said.

"Malfoy? What're you doing running around with him?" Brunt asked.

"He's a friend of mine," Even as she said it, the concept still felt forlorn. She mentally chastised herself for thinking that way. Draco hadn't proven her wrong in trusting him so far. She needed to be more open with the concept of their friendship.

"So Mr. Geraard pulled you into the room against your own will?" Brunt asked.

"Yes. I realized a moment too late which room it was and tried to pull free. He held on purposefully and gloated once he figured out what room it was like he expected it was such."

"What do you mean?" Kingsley asked.

"He said something like... 'It's true, this was the room where Bellatrix did it?' He got a strange, happy look on his face as if he were savoring the moment. He said it was, 'Fascinating.' Something within me realized he'd been a Voldemort supporter. He wouldn't let me go. I panicked and hexed him." Hermione said. Harry grabbed her hand on the table and gave it a squeeze, knowing reliving the moment was hard for her.

"Sir, this sounds like an open and shut case," Harry said to Brunt. "He clearly accosted her. She was merely using a self-defense tactic. She told me herself she hasn't hexed anyone since the war."

"I said I hadn't hexed anyone in some time, Harry. But now that I think back on it, I believe that's true. I haven't needed to physically defend myself in almost ten years." She admitted. Brunt was scribbling down notes and grunted.

"I wish I could say the same," He said bitterly and looked back up at her.

"The problem is, his story is... considerably different," Kingsley said awkwardly.

"What did he say?" She asked.

"We won't go into the specifics but... it paints you in an extremely bad light, Miss Granger," Brunt said. "He claims you hexed him out of frustration."

"I did. Because he wouldn't let me go." Hermione stated.

"He mentions you came on to him..." Brunt trudged forward, seeming embarrassed to even be asking her such a thing. Hermione sputtered.

"That's outrageous!" Harry slammed a hand down.

"His claim is you hexed him when he didn't reciprocate your feelings. He's saying you sexually harassed and then assaulted him. That's the long and short of it. If any of his claims end up being true, you could not only lose your job but be sent to Azkaban. Especially because he lost his job due to the circumstances. He wants to sue you for damages to his reputation." Brunt rushed out. Hermione felt herself shaking with rage.

"Do you believe any of it?" Harry asked, sounding as angry as she felt.

"Of course not," Kingsley said loudly. "His Great Aunt is Victorius Fawley-Pearlman, though! She practically owns most of London."

Hermione felt the blood leave her face. Pearlman? As in...?

"Madam Pearlman is his Aunt?" She asked slowly. "That explains a lot."

"You know her?" Kingsley asked.

"I only met her the one time... right before going to Malfoy Manor with Draco that day. She called me a mudblood and refused to acknowledge me directly. She made quite a few insinuations to Draco about me, as well. It was horribly awkward." She said slowly.

"She should be brought in for questioning." Harry said.

"She wasn't involved or present during the altercation so we can't," Brunt said. "You were trained better than that, Potter."

"But sir,"

"Calm down, Harry. He's correct. But you know who _was_ present during the altercation? Draco Malfoy." Hermione said. "He told me we could owl him if a statement was necessary. I believe it is." Hermione said and leaned back in her chair.

"We don't really want to involve Malfoy in this case." Brunt said. Hermione stood up and started to pace.

"He's an actual witness. How could you not?" She demanded.

"His reputation would not be an asset here." He explained.

"We cannot ignore a key witness due to his reputation, sir, you know that. You _did_ train me well, after all." Harry said angrily. "If Malfoy was there, he needs to be spoken to."

"I'll send an owl his way immediately." Kingsley said and left. Brunt said nothing but Hermione could tell he was frustrated.

"What do you have against Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"What do any of us have against him? His whole family were a bunch of murdering Voldemort supporters. He should be rotting in Azkaban." Brunt said without looking at the other two. He was scribbling more notes on his notepad.

"You have no idea what he's suffered," Hermione said quietly and continued to pace slowly around the room. The look on Harry's face showed her he didn't understand but wanted to. She said nothing more until Kingsley came back a while later.

"He should be here any minute." He assured the small group and took his seat. Sure enough, Draco came strolling into the conference room moments later looking every bit the businessman again. His crisp, white shirt contrasted the black three piece suit and tie he wore. When he laid eyes on Hermione, he seemed relieved. It was quickly covered by his disdain at the situation, though.

"Brunt. Minister." He greeted by nodding. "Potter," He shook Harry's hand. Hermione guessed it was easy to become chummy over a friendly game of quidditch.

"Malfoy, thank you for coming so quickly." Kingsley said. "Please have a seat."

Draco walked over to where Hermione was leaning against a wall, coffee in hand. He hesitated next to her and captured her glance with his own.

"You alright?" He asked. She shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Apparently Latif has been coming up with some delightful tales for the Minister and Captain Brunt." She said, a bitter bite to her voice. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'll handle it." He said too low for anyone else to hear while touching her forearm to try and reassure her. She attempted to smile but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Wait outside, Miss Granger." Brunt instructed. "We need his side of things without any influence from you."

"Of course," She said and left the room, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Hermione sat in one of the chairs around the corner from the conference room. She took another pull from her latte, hoping it would make her feel better. It hadn't seemed to help so far. Her stomach was in knots and her brain was running a million miles a minute. She couldn't quite grasp Latif's endgame with the situation.

As a supporter of Voldemort, he obviously didn't like her or want to befriend her. He was the same, muggle and muggle-born hating bigot that his master had been. But even Voldemort had a plan; a thought of how he wanted things to end up with everything he did.

Most of the known death eaters and supporters had been rounded up and stood trial right after the war. A majority landed in Azkaban. The one's who weren't sentenced as harshly, like Draco's Mother, had a good reason for not being thrown in jail. They'd earned pardons for different acts of service; if they had a change of heart or acted as a double agent for the Order.

There were quite a few supporters that were unknown or unaccounted for, though. Hermione guessed Latif and his family were probably some of those people. As a member of the Sacred twenty-eight, it'd make sense for Voldemort to reach out to them for support. He had amassed quite an army before the end and not all those in his circle were named.

If Hermione had to guess, she'd think Madam Pearlman might have been pulling purse strings for him. Probably as a silent participant. It would explain how she'd never heard of her or her nephew.

Who knew how many Voldemort supporters lingered in the shadows, ready to seize an opportunity? Maybe this one was Latif's.

"They haven't arrested you yet?"

 _Speak of the devil..._

Hermione ignored his words and turned away from him.

"Don't speak to her," Jefferson instructed. Hermione internally thanked Merlin the solicitor seemed more intelligent than the posh-sounding client next to him.

"Come on, Jefferson. I bet I can goad her into hexing me again. It'd really bring the charges home and prove what a reckless bitch she actually is." Latif said, amused.

Hermione stiffened as he neared where she sat. He leaned down, almost eye level. She didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. She knew his intention was to intimidate.

"Geraard!" Brunt barked. Hermione's head flicked towards his angry voice and saw he was standing several feet past Latif and Jefferson, seemingly having exited the conference room without their noticing. Right behind him was Harry, Kingsley, and Draco, who looked ready to kill. Latif didn't seem phased.

"Making the arrest then?" He asked innocently stepping out of Hermione's space. Brunt scoffed.

"Not today," The Captain said and gestured towards Draco. "Malfoy's story corroborates with Miss Granger's. It seems the details don't quite match up to your telling."

"That woman attacked me," Latif raised his voice, pointing at her. "You arrest her right now, or-"

"Or what?" Draco stepped forward and got in the man's face. His tone was lethal; he obviously wasn't to be trifled with. His face was strangely blank, seeming to convey much in a single glare. "What're you going to do?" Hermione was vaguely reminded of his father for just a second. It was long enough to feel that old familiar quake in her chest. The men stared each other down for a beat before Latif took a small step back. A sign of submission that Hermione wasn't sure the man could quite stand about himself. Jefferson put a hand on his shoulder.

"We should go," He insisted to Latif.

"She still stunned me, unprovoked." Latif insisted to Brunt, not ready to give up despite his submission to Draco.

"It felt pretty provoked to me," Hermione said, standing up. "Maybe next time you get the idea to attempt intimidation, you'll know better."

"She'll be dealt with for the spell and temporary injury it caused you. Now leave, Mr. Geraard, you don't have a strong enough case here to continue." Brunt said and motioned to him where the exit was.

Latif didn't lose his cool, he merely adopted a mock look of uncaring and turned to leave. He took a few steps and went to walk by Hermione. She moved out of his path, not wanting to come into contact with him. As he passed, he muttered.

"Watch your back, _mudblood_."

Without thinking, Hermione instantly turned towards him, pulled the lid off her coffee cup and proceeded to throw the remainder of its' contents in his face. His shock quickly turned into rage. He went to reach for his wand. She was a step ahead of him and already had hers out, pointed at his chest where the coffee dribbled down.

"Don't threaten me again. _Ever_." She emphasized the last word by pressing the tip of her wand into his chest and he took a step back. "I don't care who you're related to. Your blood status gives you no right to harass or bully me. I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be," He spoke low. "You've been marked." With one last look of disgust, he hightailed it out of there. Hermione looked over at the men who were all gawking at her for her bold actions. She quickly pocketed her wand, picked up her cup and deposited in the bin before turning back to Brunt.

"What's my punishment?"

"A weeks suspension from the Ministry." He said, unsure.

"Fine. I'll drop off my report for my department head then be on my way." She said and walked quickly out of the department. She had just entered the lift when a hand grabbed her wrist. Thinking the worst, she immediately recoiled.

"It's me," Harry's familiar voice said.

"And me," Draco added. She heaved a sigh of relief when she turned and saw the doors close behind them.

"You've got quite a fight or flight response going for you today, Hermione," Draco said. Harry chuckled.

"I haven't seen this Hermione in quite some time. I'm glad you've got some fight left in you. I almost pummeled that guy, myself." Harry said.

"Pummeled? Really, Potter?" Draco made fun.

"Shut it, Malfoy,"

"Shut up, both of you," Hermione muttered, feeling exhaustingly agitated. Harry looked concerned.

"You alright, 'Mione? I know how much it bothers you-"

"Please shut up, Harry." Hermione crouched down and threw her arms up around her head, covering her ears and lacing her fingers behind her head. She tried to get herself under control. She hadn't ever had an attack at work and didn't want to now, but she could feel the panic and weight of the situation pressing on her chest. She closed her eyes and started counting as slowly as she could, matching her breathing. _One, two, three, four..._

"It's a panic attack." She heard Harry mumble.

"I know, Potter," Draco said and used one of his hands rub her back while the other squeezed her forearm.

"Breathe, Granger." He instructed.

"I'm trying!" She said through clenched teeth. She felt the lift come to a halt, a soft sound of bells signaled it had been manually stopped.

"Open your eyes, let me see you." He demanded. She slowly released her lids and rested her eyes on his gray ones, etched with more concern than she'd ever seen anyone give her before. "Breathe with me," He said and began breathing deeply in through his nose and out with his mouth. She tried to follow his rhythm. Harry sat next to her and tried to cast a calming charm on her. It was a temporary fix they'd tried in the past to get her through an attack long enough to go somewhere private. Draco looked at the wizard, not understanding. He held his hand up, affectively stopping the spell in its tracks.

"That won't help her. It delays the inevitable." He said. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I know."

"She won't ever learn to control the attacks if you coddle her, Potter!" He scolded. Harry shrugged sadly.

"It's her idea," Harry stated. "To hold off an attack if she's in an unideal situation." Draco looked at Hermione again and gently pried her arms free of her head. He cradled her face his large, warm hands. She started to feel a bit more herself as he brushed a thumb across her cheek, near her mouth. Her breathing started to slow down.

"A calming charm has a lot of adverse effects... It's not like Calming Draught. It won't make her feel peaceful or relaxed. It just staggers the symptoms temporarily, making her feel them tenfold when it wears off." Draco relayed her truth. Harry shook his head.

"No, it seems to help her. She said-"

"She was lying, Potter. Don't you stay with her through an attack?" He asked impatiently.

"No I... she doesn't let me." He looked at his friend through fresh eyes. They seemed clouded with guilt as he sat next to her on the floor of the lift and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Have you been ducking out on your mind healer as well?" He asked her. She breathed slowly through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. On the exhale, she muttered.

"Yes." It wisped out.

"You should have told me these attacks were still happening. You said they'd stopped. You lied to me, Hermione."

"It's... my choice." She insisted quietly. "But I'm sorry I lied."

"Maybe we could move this little after school special moment to another location," Draco said impatiently.

"Don't be an ass," Hermione mumbled half-heartedly.

"There's our girl." Draco patted her cheek. "You feel like you can stand now?" She nodded a little and Draco helped her stand.

Harry got up, too, and tapped his wand on the dial next to the door that allowed the lift to continue. It jolted to life, causing them all to shift around slightly. Hermione grabbed onto the wall for support just as Draco's arms grabbed her waist to steady her. As quickly as he did it, he let go.

"You should really get home," Harry said. "Take this week to catch up on things, maybe."

"Like what? My report for work is done, hence why we're headed up to my department. My book," Hermione shot a look at Draco. "Is done, awaiting review..."

"We can take a meeting about that in a day or so," Draco assured her.

"You could always catch up on your reading list. Merlin knows it grows by the day." Harry chuckled and the lift dinged, opening its doors to her floor. Hermione stepped out, feeling a bit stronger but still emotionally drained. She thought heading home to a good book sounded exactly like what she needed. She turned back when she didn't hear footsteps behind her.

"You guys coming?" She asked. The blonde and black-haired men looked at her apologetically.

"I have to get back to Olympus," Draco said, holding the lift doors open. "Sorry."

"I have to get to work as well," Harry said. "But I'm glad you seem to be feeling better. Owl me later and we'll make plans to hang out this week. Teddy will be home. He misses you."

"Okay. Have a great day, both of you." She waved them goodbye. Draco released the door and it closed slowly.

 **A storm is brewing, y'all!**

 **On a personal note: How many of you deal with silent illnesses like depression or anxiety? I'm afflicted with both so Hermione's "attacks" hold some significance for me. I try to write as much of my experience as possible for it to feel authentic. Some people have really severe anxiety/panic attacks. Sometimes they're milder. Mine vary and are often brought on by extremely difficult or traumatic experiences. Silent illnesses are so important to talk about, in my opinion, and I could completely envision Hermione having enough PTSD from the war to develop panic attacks.**

 **Also, thank you to lfulluh and McKayz for the reviews! I fully intend to keep going with this little story!**

 **TheMissMegan**


	12. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

**There's only going to be one update this week, sorry friends!**

 **Please enjoy and don't forget to review!**

 **TheMissMegan**

Hermione's boss hadn't exactly been happy to hear she wouldn't be in the office all week. She explained the situation and he understood, but this week was an important one for her Department. They were trying to petition for the humane treatment of dragons in captivity; particularly the methods used to breed and care for them in a subdepartment of the Ministry that was responsible for providing medical supplies to St. Mungo's. They had their own flight of dragons bred specifically for potion ingredients amongst other things. Hermione had discovered their ill-treatment of the beasts about a year ago and had been diligent in finding out all she could ever since. Charlie had been in correspondence with her about it as an expert witness. He'd ventured to the grounds with her on multiple occasions, pointing out all the mistreatment and red flags.

"This was your discovery, Granger." Her boss, a man in his late forties with a receding hairline and wire-framed glasses said as he held her report in one hand and gestured to her with it. He was leaning against his desk, a frustrated expression on his face.

"I know, Samuel, and it's killing me not to be there for the initial presentation to the board but I have faith that you can all carry on without me. My research as well as my evidence to support the petition is extensive. The report you have in your hand is a key piece of the puzzle. They'll have to submit to our claims and change the way they do things." She insisted.

" _You're_ the one familiar with the jargon." He pressed. "You brought this to our attention."

"Charlie Weasley will be there. He'll help with anything you need. He could possibly present the petition as a liaison to our department. All you'd have to do is ask. I'm sure he'll be okay with it. He wants these dragons to be cared for. It's bad enough they're basically bred for the needs of a hospital. They may as well be comfortable while they help us out." She said.

Hermione's heart ached for the poor beasts. She wasn't particularly fond of them. Dragon's were known to be extremely dangerous and temperamental. Which she'd witnessed first-hand several times now. They'd been rated _XXXXX_ for a reason. The fact that the Ministry would even let a group within its ranks that weren't considered experts breed them for their medicinal properties boggled her. And the more she tried to dig around about who had started the subdepartment in the first place, the more questions arose, confusing her to no end. She couldn't quite pinpoint who was in charge or how they took care of them without being eaten alive or torched. Any time she was on the breeding grounds, she never saw anyone there. No breeders, handlers or trainers of any kind. She'd seen the dragons themselves (making sure to stay far away) and could tell by the look of them they were half starved. The infants didn't seem to live very long and the ones that did were malnourished and extremely small due to their small grounds of entrapment. It was cruel and the moment Hermione laid eyes on a baby dragon that seemed to have starved to death, she knew something had to be done.

Charlie portkeyed to her the same day she owled him.

The very next day they went into the enclosure together. He made sure to point out and take photos of every single illegal thing he could find. Hermione's notes were extensive. The photos were damning. And she had received many threats to shut her investigation down the moment the small subdepartment got wind of their findings.

Like that would stop her.

She'd worked for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for years now. Threats came with the territory. Especially when you worked with higher level creatures like dragons.

"Fine, I'll owl him. If this goes badly-"

"It won't. He's a leading expert in his field. He has been for many years now. If anyone can present this case better than me, it's him." Hermione assured. At that moment her fatigue seemed to be getting the better of her. She rubbed her right temple a bit. Samuel gestured at her again with the folder.

"Alright there, Granger?" He asked, concerned.

"I'm fine... just exhausted from this whole mess with the Auror's office. I'll head home now but don't hesitate to contact me with any questions." She said and turned away from him.

"Alright. See you next week."

Hermione felt at a loss. She had been home for several hours but after sleeping off the mornings' events and having some tea, she wasn't sure what else to do. Her eyes roamed around her bedroom in an attempt to preoccupy herself.

Harry was right that she had quite a list of books she wanted to read but none of them really interested her at the moment. If she were being honest with herself, she very much felt like rereading an old, familiar story. One she hadn't read since being back at school. The Austen novel in question wasn't currently in her list of volumes she owned. But she knew for a fact a certain house guest had a copy downstairs...

Going into the guest room would be a violation of his privacy though, wouldn't it?

Sure, the house and room in question belonged to her but she had told Draco while he was staying there that it was his own space and to feel at home. She couldn't just waltz right in and borrow a book without permission, could she?

Hermione thought about texting him to ask but she remembered she didn't actually have his phone number. Besides, she didn't want to disturb him at work.

She decided to just go downstairs to see if he left it out in the living room. She hadn't remembered seeing it upon arriving home but it couldn't hurt to check.

After a thorough look around, she knew it had to be in his room. She really wanted to read it and had nothing better to do until Draco came home.

And wasn't _that_ a scary thought? Since when did she feel bored without him around? She wanted to blame it on the fact that Ginny wasn't at home but knew it had more to do with him as a person.

It had only been four days since he came back into her life but it felt like much longer. He was snarky, combative and overly sensitive about a lot of things. But he was also quiet, intelligent and considerate, too. There was a lot of the childhood Draco that came out in certain ways but this newer, older Draco seemed more mature and fun to hang out with.

Becoming friends with Draco Malfoy had never been something she thought would ever happen. They came from different worlds; their backgrounds were so dissimilar it was frightening. His elitist family views placed him on the wrong side of a terrible war. It was that part of him that she still felt nervous about sometimes.

Like today when he got in Latif's face, she was reminded of all the reasons being friends with him wasn't a good idea. He was still a Malfoy, after all. He was brought up thinking he was better than everyone; better than her, especially.

How many times had she cried herself to sleep at night because of something he did or said to her? Whether it was increasing her teeth size or dropping the M word, he had made school miserable for her. She knew now it was what was expected of him, being who he was and being who she was. And he had told her he hadn't meant any of it after Voldemort's return. A part of her wanted to still hate him, though and felt like she'd never fully trust him.

His apology rang in her head and she felt a tug of guilt.

 _"I'm sorry, Granger."_ He had said. _"I should have said it long ago but my pride and shame got in the way."_

She had been surprised at how genuine he sounded. Could he have been sincere or was it part of his Malfoy charm so that he could continue to stay at her house? After hearing the story of his Mother and having to sell Malfoy Manor to pay off his debts, she knew he was practically penniless and had few living arrangement options. Could he be using the situation here until something better came along? Maybe he was pretending to be her friend.

Hermione shook her head.

What a terrible thing to think about someone. He had said he was sorry. She believed him. At least, she wanted to.

Her mind was obviously her worst enemy right now. Idle hands being the devils' playthings and all that...

She decided to go ahead and grab the book from Draco's room. She'd be in and out in no time and wouldn't go through his things to find it if it wasn't right out in the open.

She walked down the small hallway and turned the knob to the guest bedroom, almost feeling like a kid sneaking into a cookie jar. But she had to admit, she was curious about him and how he lived out his privacy in the small room. He spent quite a bit of time locked away in there, especially in the late hours of the night.

The first thing she spotted was the made up bed. It was sort of weird to think of him making a bed. It could be because of his upbringing. She just assumed maids or house elves probably did that stuff for him and he wouldn't know how to. That was a silly assumption, though.

The room was pretty tidy. His clothes had to be in the dresser; his near-empty suitcase sat atop of it with a few personal items like cologne, a comb, quills, parchment, and a silver pocket watch. He had a few different suits hanging in the small closet with a variety of ties to choose from hanging next to them. Her attention was drawn to the stacks of books he had lined up on the floor of the closet. She walked over, sure she'd find the book she was looking for amongst the many volumes.

A piece of paper, seemingly out of place as it was peaking halfway out from under the bed, caught her eye as she crouched down to look through the books. She picked it up, intending to place it on his nightstand where a small parchment box lay. Her own name caught her eye, though, and she found herself unable to leave it be without reading it.

It looked like personal notes of some kind. And she instantly knew it had to do with her book. Keywords drew her attention and she found herself growing angrier the more she read.

Hermione Granger-Novel

Better than average, for a first time writer.

Writing seems a bit naïve.

The fluff makes this a "chic lit"-market it as such if it goes to print.

Author's inexperience is evident in most scenes where it should be believable.

Readers won't go for the male protagonist-too perfect.

Not descriptive enough.

Needs more meat to it.

The ending needs a rewrite.

 _Ending?_

Did that mean he'd finished it?

The entire condescending list of notes made her want to cry. But it also made her angry. Not necessarily at him (although she _was_ pretty pissed off at him) but at herself. She was frustrated that she let him read it in the first place. She should have trusted her gut and taken the novel elsewhere to be published.

He'd obviously not given it a fair shot. Charlotte had mentioned so many times how amazing her work was but it didn't seem that Draco felt the same. How had she let herself believe any differently for even a moment?

It was clear to her that he would never publish her book.

She looked up at the parchment box and grabbed it down. She lifted the lid and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

There were red ink markings all over the cover page. He had written a few suggestions on title ideas and crossed out her own. She started flipping through the pages and could see every single page had some sort of red mark on it. He'd obviously poured a lot of time and energy into tearing the novel apart.

Silent tears streamed down her face as she read more notes in the margins. Every marking was like he was questioning her intelligence and potential as a writer. Her regret at ever meeting Charlotte was instantaneous. If she hadn't met the frivolous editor, she wouldn't be feeling this gut-wrenching anger.

She knew this situation was too good to be true.

Hermione couldn't make herself look away. She poured over every single note and marking she could find inside.

It was a couple hours later that she heard the floo. She was still sitting on Draco's bedroom floor, parchment scattered everywhere. She had given up reading the pages two-thirds of the way through and had thrown them down in anger. She was now heavily sulking, leaning against the bedframe. Her arms were crossed and her hair curtained around her, hiding most of her tear-streaked face.

"Hermione?" Draco called through the house. "Are you home?" She didn't reply.

He strode into the room a second later and stopped in his tracks when he saw her.

"What're you... oh, Merlin," His voice went from the beginnings of friendliness to sounding frustrated in an instant. "Get out, Hermione." He said after a beat. She turned towards him a little and gestured to the floor.

"Why? Don't you like the new look I'm going for here?"

"And what look would that be? Basketcase?" His tone made her very aware of how angry he was becoming. She didn't care.

"No... more like 'naïve chic lit author.'" She countered, swinging around to look at him fully. She saw him register her appearance with concern before he came to his senses and plastered an angry mask back on his face.

"Get. Out." He said again, his voice dangerously low. Hermione stood, her legs sore from sitting for so long.

"Or what, Malfoy? I think you owe me an explanation."

"No, I don't, _Granger_." They were back to using last names again, it seemed. Hermione felt more comfortable dealing with him that way, anyways. Like old times, it was familiar and made her head less confused when he addressed her like he used to. "I don't owe you anything. You were supposed to wait until our meeting to discuss your book. This is extremely unprofessional."

" _Unprofessional?_ " Her jaw dropped. "What's unprofessional is how much I trusted you to give this book a fair shot when I knew you wouldn't. You did this on purpose, didn't you? To humiliate me like you always do-"

"Humiliate you? Are you fucking crazy?" He roared, losing his temper. "You barged into my personal space and went through my things. You're humiliating yourself!"

"It wasn't my intention to go through your things. I was looking for a book-"

"And you couldn't wait until I got home? The books are in the closet, Granger. In plain sight." He pointed at them. "You're not blind, you must have seen them. It just seems to me that you're constantly looking for reasons to mistrust me. How many times have you gone through my things since I've been here? For fucks sake..." He ran an agitated hand through his hair, messing up his professional look. He must have had product in it because it stuck out at different places after his hand dropped.

"I haven't gone through anything. But you getting so upset just proves you must have something to hide!" She accused. "Who knows if this condescending drivel is the only thing?" She picked up a handful of pages and flung them at his feet before standing and looking at him defiantly. He didn't even flinch.

"I'm not upset by what you found. I'm pissed that you'd be so disrespectful of me!" He fumed. "I have nothing to hide from you, Granger. I can understand your frustration about the pages, but-"

"I am way beyond frustration." She said and brushed past him, their shoulders colliding as she went. She marched into the loo and started grabbing all his things from the vanity cupboard and throwing them in the small bag he had behind the sink.

"What're you doing?" He demanded. He had followed her and regarded her like she was mental.

"You need to leave," She said, unable to look at him. "Now."

"We can't even discuss this like adults?" He asked, sounding like he was losing a bit of his steam.

"Absolutely not." She said. She zipped up the small bag and tossed it at him. He caught it easily and rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Hermione, you're being irrational," He insisted.

"Don't!"

"Don't what?"

"Don't call me Hermione," She seethed and rushed past him to the living room where she collected anything of his she could find. Shoes, books, parchment, potion ingredients; they were all gathered in her arms like remnants of a puzzle that she couldn't quite fit together.

He had betrayed her trust. He said he'd be fair. How could she let Malfoy weasel his way into her life when everything in her past should have signaled her to the contrary?

"So what, we're not friends now?" He asked as she continued flitting around the house, picking things up as she went and flinging them on the bed in his room.

"No. Because friends don't treat one another this way." She said more calmly than she felt.

"You're right. They don't. None of my friends would have gone through my private things and then gotten angry _at me_ for getting caught. And they certainly wouldn't kick me out of their homes."

"Then go! Go be with your real friends, Malfoy! I never asked you to be my friend. Or for you to be my publisher, for that matter. You should have just been upfront with me and told me my writing was rubbish instead of lying to my whole family and I about how highly you thought of me!" She said, finally looking him in the eye again.

"I wasn't lying. But it's clear that whatever reasonable explanations I may have for you on this subject will fall on deaf ears. So I'll go." His face was set in that stern mask he wore so well. Hermione shook her head once before leaving him to pack the rest of his things.

She was sitting at the breakfast bar with a glass of wine when he came out a few minutes later with his suitcase. He walked past her and only hesitated once he got to the front door. He looked back at her and heaved a frustrated sigh. Her eyes met his, trying not to show how disappointed she actually was.

"I know you don't think I gave your book a fair shot but... Nah, forget it. You wouldn't believe me, anyway." He stopped himself and turned the doorknob. "Goodbye Granger." He walked out and slammed the door behind him. Hermione stared at the closed door.

"Goodbye, Malfoy."


	13. Back To The Drawing Board

Almost a week later, Hermione heard an owl pecking at her kitchen window. She had been receiving them pretty frequently since she kicked Malfoy out on Monday.

One from George let her know Malfoy had crashed on his couch and inquired as to what happened. She hadn't responded. Harry had written a few times to see how she was after her crazy day at the Ministry and let her know he wanted to drop by. She had turned off her floo, though, so if he tried to come over that way, he'd wouldn't have much luck. She dropped him a line to say she was fine, knowing he'd worry. Her boss owled her a few questions about the case at one point and then owled again to let her know their petition seemed to be holding up but that she was officially off the case. Apparently, Charlie had been a brilliant presenter. Her absence left her out of any further dealings, though. She tried not to be upset but it stung.

The letters she'd been receiving from Charlotte sat on her counter, unopened. She didn't want anything more to do with Olympus and couldn't bring herself to read whatever the woman had to say. Hermione felt like her days of writing were over. A terrible weight on her chest seemed to indicate she had wasted a whole year of her life on something that would never happen. Her dream was shattered but she tried to have hope. She'd been through much worse and simply had to find inspiration once more.

It hadn't helped that she'd been suspended from work all week with nothing to do. She chatted with Charlie a few times via cellphone about the dragon case but he couldn't say much due to the sensitivity of the project. He'd merely said things seemed to be working out in their favor. Which only made her more curious.

The tapping at the window pulled Hermione out of the book she was reading. She shut it and walked over to the window, opening it to let in the brown barn owl she recognized as the Weasley's.

"Here you go, nibble on that while I read and reply," Hermione gave the bird a pellet and he hooted in appreciation.

Opening the letter, she already suspected what it was about. And she'd been right. It was Sunday, after all.

 _Hermione,_

 _We'd love to have you over for dinner tonight. I know you had a row with Percy last time but he won't be here this week. Normally we expect you to just show up but seeing as how you've been so distant with us recently, I decided a formal invitation was in order to let you know that you're always welcome. It is your home, after all._

 _I'm making your favorite. Pot Roast._

 _Hope to see you, dear._

 _Love, Molly_

Hermione felt her heart expand like it only could when she received such love from a parent. She felt guilty like she had been neglecting the Weasley's in her search of publication. It wasn't wrong to follow your dreams but it was terrible to put loved ones on the sidelines in pursuit of those dreams. She had to remedy that.

She wrote a reply saying she'd be there and sent it off with the owl.

Going to dinner tonight plus going back to work in the morning would make her feel her old self again, she was sure of it. It was about time she got her life back on track and focused on what was important.

All week, she'd been lounging around her home, feeling lonely and sorry for herself. She'd eaten pints of ice cream and drank loads of wine to try to make herself feel better. It'd only made her feel worse. What she really needed to do was move on and stop acting like she was in mourning. It was only a book, after all. She could find another dream to pursue and she always had her work at the Ministry.

She just wanted things to go back to normal.

Sunday dinner was the perfect first step in making that a reality.

Hermione felt better than she had in over a week. She showered, shaved her legs, did her hair and makeup and dug out her favorite jeans and maroon Weasley jumper that had a lowercase, cursive H on the front; a distinction Molly did purposefully so she and Harry wouldn't get their clothes mixed up in school. Not that it mattered much. Most of the sweaters Molly made for the Weasley clan were similar in shape and size.

Hermione knocked twice before opening the door to the Burrow and being enveloped by the delicious scent of pot roast. Molly turned towards her from the kitchen table, where it looked like she was setting plates out, and smiled.

"So glad you could make it, dear." She beamed and went in for a hug. Hermione held her a little longer than usual, relishing in the feeling of home. When they parted, she held up a bottle.

"I brought wine," She said softly. Molly took it and placed it on the table with the other bottles already set out.

"Good. The boys do love their drinks after dinner."

"I do, too, when I'm here. I think it just gives us all an excuse to catch up with one another. It's tough getting older." Hermione said. Molly regarded her with a knowing look.

"Trust me, I know that too well. I love that you're all so close. It's all I've ever wanted for my children." She said and opened the lid on a large pot to check its contents.

"Can I help?"

"You know I like doing these things. Go! Relax with the others. Not everyone is here yet, but the kids are in the garden. No doubt picking my dirigible plums again..." She muttered, sounding exasperated but wearing a maternal smile. Molly was so good at being a parent... and now she was even better at being a grandparent. She always knew the right things to say and do. She truly cherished the people in her life. Hermione hoped she'd have half that instinct one day. She walked over to Molly, planted a kiss on her cheek, and went out back. She immediately noticed Teddy, Victoire, and Dominique nibbling on the plums Molly mentioned. That lady had to have eyes in the back of her head. How else could she have known?

"Grandma Molly is going to swat you lot for eating before dinner!" Hermione chastised the children but couldn't help smiling as they all jumped a little before racing up to her like lunatics.

"Aunt Hermione!" They all cheered. Teddy reached her first, his legs having grown longer in the months since she'd seen him. His normally teal hair turned a bright shade of aqua as he hugged her around the waist and squeezed.

"Oh, Teddy! It's so good to see you!" She ruffled his hair. "Look at how handsome you're getting!" She held his face between her hands. His cheeks and hair turned bright pink at being complimented.

"I don't think so," He mumbled.

"She's right. She's always right about everything," Victoire said as she went in for a hug, too, her long blonde hair cascaded down her back and was feather soft. Hermione snorted.

"That's not always true," she said.

"Uh-huh!" Dominique, the middle sibling of Fleur's children said. She was four years old and had bright blonde curls and blue eyes. The veela definitely shined through in the children. The only one who had inherited the signature Weasley red hair and freckled complexion was baby Louis. And he was also completely gorgeous. "Auntie 'Mione knows everything. That's what Daddy says." Hermione looked over at the makeshift Quidditch pitch the Weasley boys had concocted several years earlier and smiled at the eldest Weasley boy flying around with Ron and Harry. Bill had always valued her intelligence.

Hermione turned back to the children and sighed.

"You're all getting so big! Are you guys in your twenties now?" She asked, pointing at the kids.

"Teddy is only almost eleven, Aunt Hermione. And I'm almost nine. Maybe you _don't_ know everything..." Victoire said seriously. The girl was entirely too serious most of the time.

"I was only joking!" Hermione laughed.

"I'm four!" Dominique exclaimed.

"Yes you are, darling! Come on, let's go watch your Dad whoop Uncle Harry's butt at Quidditch!"

"As if! Harry is the best at Quidditch!" Teddy said indignantly.

"Who told you that?" Hermione asked as she led the kids to the edge of the little field.

"He did!" Teddy said and watched the boys fly around, mesmerized.

"Figures. Harry likes to talk up his abilities..." She snickered and greeted the others around the pitch.

"I heard that!" Harry shouted from above and flashed her a grin.

"I wanna fly! Can I, Harry?" Teddy yelled up at his Godfather.

"Absolutely!"

"Not!" Hermione added.

"Oh, come on!" Harry and Teddy said at the same time.

"Do you know how many different ways you could injure yourself by flying around on a broom, Edward Remus Lupin? The possibilities are endless and I certainly don't want to be the one to tell Andromeda that we let her only Grandson get hurt playing a silly game." Hermione chastised.

"In a crowd full of excellent Quidditch players? I think he'll be fine." Charlie said behind her.

"There you are! I want to talk about the dragons-"

"I can't Hermione, you know that." He slung an arm around her shoulders.

"It was _my_ case. My discovery!" She pleaded.

"Now it's out of your hands. Sorry, 'Mione." He said sympathetically but averted his gaze. "It couldn't hurt to let Teddy fly around a little bit. There are so many of us here to keep an eye on him."

"Grandma would be mad, Aunt Hermione is right," Teddy said, defeated.

"See? Told you she's always right," Victoire sniggered.

"But 'Arry eez 'ere. What 'e says matterz, too." Fluer piped up from her spot in one of the lawn chairs. Lavender was sitting next to her with baby Louis in her lap.

"That's very true. It's Harry's choice." Charlie said. Hermione flinched.

At the beginning of Teddy's life, it had been Harry and Ginny who made most of the decisions regarding his upbringing. Andromeda wanted the child to have a normal family and decided they should be parents to him. Not that they'd pretend to be. He'd be brought up to know his real parents, but they wanted to give him his best chance at happiness. Andromeda would come by often to spend time with him and take him to her home for weekend stays pretty frequently. The little family lived together for a time and seemed to be happy. When Ginny ended things, though, Harry was devastated. It was hard for him to care for Teddy alone. Hermione had moved in with him for about a year, playing mother to Teddy. He was truly the happiest, most gifted child. She felt truly happy to be able to be an active part of his life.

But when it was finally decided that Harry and Andromeda would split time with Teddy instead, due to Harry's meticulous work schedule, somehow Hermione became discluded from the equation.

It had been that way ever since.

She wasn't even sure if Teddy remembered the year they had spent together. He'd been three when he went to live primarily with Andromeda.

"Come on up," Harry said, snapping Hermione out of her reverie. Harry had lowered himself to the ground and Teddy climbed on the broom in front of him.

"A compromise. Good thinking, Harry." Ron said, eyeing Hermione. He'd been the only one she'd cried to when she no longer got to live with Teddy. He knew how much Hermione wanted children one day.

It wasn't long after Teddy moved away that Hermione and Ginny had gotten their house together. Harry had understood but was hurt just the same, thinking she'd chosen sides. She had reassured him many times over that it was just what she needed to do. She couldn't live in the Black household without memories of her childhood or Teddy's laugh haunting her.

"Just be careful," She said as the boys flew back up into the air a few feet with the others. They were all low enough to chat with everyone but high enough to give Teddy a thrill.

"Can I go up, too, Ma'ma?" Victoire asked.

"Definitely not," Fluer said. The little girl pouted and sat in the grass, staring at the boys flying around.

"Maybe when you're a little older, flower," Bill called over to her and she grinned slightly. She was very much a daddy's girl.

"Are we just waiting on George and Percy now?" Charlie asked the group.

"Percy won't be here and George is probably on his way. Dad is running late at work." Ron said.

"Percy isn't coming? Is it because Hermione verbally whooped his ass last week?" Charlie sniggered.

"I wouldn't have had to verbally whoop any of you if you lot could just be appropriate and not talk about my _personal life_ ," Hermione said grumpily, careful not to say too much in front of the children. Lavender muttered a small, 'Here, here,' and scowled at Ron. "Besides, he had it coming. He really hurt my feelings last week."

The boys all grumbled under their breath. Some gave an apology. Others merely sounded disgruntled.

"Come on, Weasley's! Dinner is ready!" Molly called across the yard. Victoire and Dominique tore inside, their blonde hair bouncing as they ran. The moment Harry and the others touched back down on the ground, Teddy followed after at the same pace.

"It looks like they all still get on well," Hermione mentioned. Harry fell in step with her and grinned.

"Yeah. That's how cousins should be." He lamented.

"I thought you and Dudley were on good terms these days?" She asked.

"We are. But he's still a prat who made my childhood miserable. It would've helped if he'd been kind to me or treated me with family affection once in a while." Harry said a little bitterly, but it didn't hold as much edge as it would have seven or eight years ago. Hermione nodded along.

"So where's Draco tonight?" He asked uncertainly as they all congregated around the dinner table. Hermione opened her mouth to respond but was cut off.

"Right here, Potter."

 **Well, well, well... look who's crashing dinner. Hehe. Thanks so much for all the kind words of encouragement. I hope everyone is still loving this story!**


	14. The Truth in the Writing

**Welcome back, everyone! Thank you for your patience with the chapter delay. I had some dental work done and needed a break. PLUS! This chapter is going to be longer and wonderful. So there's a nice treat for you guys for waiting! Enjoy!**

 **TheMissMegan**

Everyone's heads quickly flashed to the pompous voice coming from the kitchen. Draco was leaning against the counter next to Molly and George, his arms crossed over his chest; he looked comfortable like he belonged there. He wore a dark blue sweater with a large D sewn on the front. It appeared as if he'd slipped it on over a dress shirt because he had a crisp, white collar sticking out of the top.

Hermione's pulse hammered in her veins. She wasn't sure what to even say to him; her emotions were all over the place. This was the last place she expected to ever run into him.

And even though the anger she felt towards him for having betrayed her trust was at the forefront of her mind, she also felt the lonely absence of having him around the house just as strongly. But the mere thought of missing him seemed preposterous. She grew a bit frustrated at herself for even daring to think of it. She let her anger eclipse the hurt. She had to if she wanted to get through this dinner.

When his gray eyes wouldn't leave hers, as if having an unannounced staring contest, she decided to be the bigger person and look away first. It might seem like a sign of weakness but she didn't care, she couldn't look at him any longer for fear her resolve would slip.

"Why don't we all have a seat?" Molly suggested, looking fidgety. The tension in the room was felt by most as they greeted George and Malfoy. But the children helped break it with their loud chatter.

"Auntie 'Mione? Sit next to me?" Dominique asked, tugging at Hermione's sleeve. She looked down at the little girl with her ocean eyes and nodded.

"Sure, darling." She chose a spot and Dominique plopped down in the seat next to her.

Never in a million years did Hermione imagine Draco coming back to the Burrow. Especially of his own volition. George must have invited him. How unfortunate considering Hermione had decided to never see him again. Was she in for weekly viewings of him now that he was friends with most of her family? Even Molly seemed to like him if the Weasley sweater was any indication. It irritated her to no end. She was _so_ looking forward to things going back to how they used to be...

She became irritated when he took the seat directly opposite of her. She had a feeling he did it on purpose. Probably to make her uncomfortable or wary. It was working. And it was pissing her off.

"I want to sit with Aunt Hermione, too!" Teddy demanded. Harry smiled at his Godson and shrugged.

"I'll move down a chair from her if you're polite about it," Harry suggested.

"Please, Harry? I never see her anymore." Teddy begged as he held his folded hands in front of his face, stuck out his lower lip and make puppy-dog eyes. Hermione's heart swelled at seeing him vie for her attention. Harry laughed and moved down a chair.

"Teddy, I presume?" Draco asked. Teddy looked at the man addressing him and smiled.

"Yes. And you're my cousin, Draco." He said chipperly. Draco's head shot back in surprise that the child seemed to know who he was.

"Who told you that, Teddy?" Hermione asked.

"Andromeda has tons of family albums," Harry mentioned.

" _I'm_ in her family albums?" Draco asked, disbelief still apparent.

"Of course, dear. You're her nephew. She has many photos of you and your whole family throughout your life. It wasn't her idea that she not have contact with you," Molly said, trying to sound polite. "Being a Black sister, it'd be strange if she _didn't_ keep extensive family albums."

"Grandma Andy said you were a good boy," Teddy said and smiled cheesily. Hermione snorted but kept her mouth shut. Draco glanced at her warily.

"Can I have tater tots?" Dominique asked randomly, pushing her plate filled with pot roast away. Hermione shook her head.

"Grandma made pot roast. We have boiled potatoes, though, would you like some?"

"Nope. I only eat tater tots. I don't like Grandma's potatoes." The little girl insisted. The muggle food was something she and Harry had introduced the children to a few years prior when they'd stayed at Harry's house for a weekend. Now they always wanted something or other that was muggle food related.

"Dominique," Bill warned. Fluer eyed the girl as well. Dominique withered a little under her mothers stare.

"It's alright, love," Molly said, looking at Dominique. "I made you some tots from scratch. They're at this end of the table."

Ever the spoiling grandmother, she came around and plopped some lumpy looking potatoes on each of the kids' plates. Hermione stifled a giggle at how unlike tater tots they actually looked. The kids didn't seem to mind, though, and started gobbling them up.

"You spoil them," Fleur voiced what Hermione was thinking. The beautiful witch didn't seem unhappy about that fact, though. Molly may be overbearing at times but she was a fierce family member. It had taken the women some time to become close, but Hermione knew Fleur adored her mother in law.

"It's a grandmothers job," Molly agreed.

They all dug into their meals. Polite chatter about everyone's lives and jobs and children kept up most of the conversation. Hermione only spoke when the children on either side talked to her about something or other. She still refused to acknowledge Malfoy or the looks he kept trying to sneak her way.

Halfway through dinner, George, the troublemaker that he was, spoke of the elephant in the room.

"So, are you two going to tell us why you're not speaking? Or why Malfoy had to come and stay with me?"

"No." Hermione said simply and took another bite of roast. It was delicious, as always.

"I'm not so sure she even knows the real reason," Malfoy said haughtily. Hermione glared at him, giving him eye contact for the first time during the meal. His tone spoke anger but his eyes looked simmered in comparison.

"I know exactly why." She said and looked away again.

"You only think you know. You really have no idea." He countered, sounding close to anger.

"William? Maybee eetz time to go 'ome?" Fleur said. Bill nodded, sensing the tension rising.

"Sorry Mum, we'll come around earlier next week," Bill said and picked up Louis from Molly's lap and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Please, don't leave on Malfoy's account," Hermione said angrily. "I hardly get to spend time with you guys these days."

"We'll see you again next week." Bill insisted. After the war, Fleur hated being around any type of quarrel. She also preferred the children not be present when anyone was having a row. She and Bill dreamed of the kids growing up without the same animosity they had to endure and did everything they could to teach them how to problem solve in a kind, respectful manner. Hermione respected the hell out of them for it but it sometimes made family functions a little shorter than usual.

Molly levitated a container with leftovers into Fleur's hands and kissed the children goodbye. The kids all made their goodbyes to Hermione and their Uncles and the little family exited out the back door into the night.

Hermione flashed a cold look at Malfoy, hating him for cutting her time short with her family.

"What is wrong with you?" She demanded. Malfoy didn't say anything. His glare didn't hold as much fervor as hers did.

"Now, Hermione, you don't have to be so brash," Molly said.

"Me? He's the one who made this dinner uncomfortable!" She said. "Why did you come here?" She demanded Malfoy to tell her, shaking her head.

"I wanted to talk to you," He said coolly. "I don't like where we left things."

"It's because of you that we're not friends anymore!" She insisted. Teddy stood up.

"What did you do to my Aunt Hermione?" He asked, his hair turning fire engine red. Malfoy held up his hands in a submissive gesture.

"I didn't do anything to your Hermione, I promise. We just had a slight disagreement, that's all." He said to the boy. Harry put a hand on Teddy's arm to calm him and sent him upstairs. He went grudgingly, his hair was still a magenta color before he disappeared.

"Slight disagreement? You practically called my novel trash! Those notes were horrendous, Malfoy!" Hermione accused once Teddy was well out of earshot.

"They weren't even my notes!" Malfoy raised his voice, the frustration seeping off of him. She paused.

"What?" Hermione asked, sounding as confused as everyone else looked. Malfoy shook his head slightly, looking down at his abandoned roast.

"The copy of your book with the red pen marks? That was your first draft. Those were Charlotte's notes. I had them sent to me for comparison." He said, seeming to reign in his temper.

"Charlotte's notes?" Hermione felt confused. And then she felt thoroughly embarrassed when Malfoy nodded in confirmation. She stood up, wiped her face on her napkin, and excused herself, unable to make eye contact with anyone.

Hermione fled to the backyard. The evening had darkened the skies. The clouds were a dark purple color that seemed to reflect her mood.

When she tried to recall going into Malfoy's room that day, she remembered being so set on the notes she found that she didn't even notice how different the book seemed. All she could see was red. Literally.

And it was that thought that brought her to the realization that Draco had been right: she had been looking for any excuse not to trust him. In her heart, she felt her stubbornness lift a little. She knew she had to apologize but... how could she ever make amends? She had treated him exactly how he used to treat her in school; she doubted his character and judged him for something he couldn't quite control.

He had been a child when he had called her a mudblood and tormented her.

She was a full grown adult who knew better.

Her mistrust led her down a totally avoidable path.

"Hey," His voice said softly behind her a few moments later. It might be for the best that he had come to find her. She had a feeling her apology would be hard enough without an audience.

"Why did you come here?" She asked harshly.

"I needed to talk with you, you came outside-"

"No, I mean here, at the Burrow?" She turned towards him, confusion colored her features as she frowned and put her hands on her hips. The porch light framed his silhouette in light, making him look like a dark angel. It also made it harder to make out his face as it was cast in shadow.

"I told you, I didn't like how we left things." He said, stepping forward. She took a step back.

"I behaved poorly. You shouldn't want anything to do with me. So why do you?" She asked uncertainly. Draco sighed and looked towards the ground, jamming his hands in his pockets.

"We've both acted terribly to one another, Hermione. Ever since we first met. I don't want that to happen any longer." He kicked up a little tuft of grass with his boot.

"I know I... I'm sorry for how I behaved." She said slowly. "When I went into your room... I wasn't looking for trouble, honest-"

"I doubt that very much," He argued.

"It's true I... I was actually looking for a book."

"A book?" He asked incredulously. "What book?"

"I had a hankering for Jane Austen," She shrugged, smiling weakly. His silhouette stiffened.

"Oh. Well, you wouldn't have found it anyways. I took it to work with me." He said. "It's sitting on my desk."

"I see. I suppose that would have been problematic. I should really get my own copy." They made awkward, polite chitchat for a few more minutes, neither really knowing how to move along the conversation in a meaningful way.

"Listen... about what you said back at my house-" Hermione began.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does. Please let me say this," She fidgeted with her sleeve before continuing. "You were right, Draco. I think, subconsciously, I was looking for a reason not to trust you. Instead, I just gave you a reason not to trust me. I'm ashamed by how I treated you. All you've been is kind to me since you came back into my life. You're decent to my family, you get along with my friends... I should've been more welcoming."

"I think it's hard to overcome the past sometimes. And I don't blame you. I was a real prat." Draco said and Hermione chuckled.

"You were. But you've apologized. So I need to move on and accept it like I said I did." She said and smiled. "Sorry again. There's really no excuse but if there were... I'd blame it on my book." Draco nodded.

"I could see that. Charlotte's notes _were_ incredibly brutal. But you have to understand, she's an extremely meticulous editor. And those notes weren't meant to be seen by you. Think about it... did she ever give you any sort of indication that you were an incompetent writer? Had she ever mentioned any of those notes to you before?"

"Not in that way," She said slowly, thinking back on it.

"Exactly. She probably gave you a more upbeat critique because she knows you respond better to positivity. Editor and publisher notes are usually only meant for business purposes. The notes always sound cold and unfeeling because we try not to put any of ourselves into the work. We want you to figure out how to make it better on your own terms so the work remains purely you." Draco said. "And you've truly accomplished that. Your book-I mean, I shouldn't even be saying this without a formal meeting with Charlotte, but-it's brilliant. I couldn't put it down." He said. "I actually read it all in one night, if I'm being honest. That's how good it was."

Hermione's breath hitched.

She'd spent the last week thinking he hated her book. And her, by extension. To think that it was the complete opposite was like mental whiplash; she felt confused but extremely relieved.

Maybe all her work hadn't been for nothing, after all...

"You read it in one go? How'd you manage?" She asked.

"I actually read it the night of the party. After you pissed me off, I retreated into the guest room but couldn't sleep. Like I mentioned before, I'm usually up pretty late for work and such. But the only thing I had to work on, seeing as how I'd just gone back to work, was your book. So I read. And read. And read some more." He admitted, looking away from her to hide his smirk. His profile was backlit and she could make out his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Is that why you were so tired and edgy on Saturday?" She asked.

"Yeah. I try to sleep in on weekends due to the lack of sleep from my work week. But you just _had_ to get your-or should I say _my-_ apology out of the way first thing in the morning..." He said in mock annoyance. Hermione tried to stifle a giggle and failed, making Draco's head abruptly turn.

"I like that sound," He said.

"What sound?" She asked.

"The sound of your laugh. It doesn't happen very often."

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd given her a compliment-sort of. Thinking of how he would like something as simple as her laugh was boggling but she tried not to question it. Far be it for her to try to figure out Draco Malfoy. "Maybe we should go back inside?" She suggested.

"No, we still have a few matters to discuss." He said and gestured he towards the lawn chairs next to the makeshift pitch.

Hermione strode over, Draco on her heels, and plopped down in one of the wooden chairs. The newly mown grass under her feet was slightly damp from the rain earlier and moistened the hem of her jeans, causing a small amount of water to get into her socks. She shivered at how cold it was. Draco took off his Weasley jumper and draped it over her shoulders before sitting down himself.

She had been right earlier, he was wearing a white, long-sleeved, button-up underneath. She wrapped the sweater tightly around herself and could faintly smell something pleasant waft up from the material. It reminded her of something familiar. Like parchment and mint of some kind. That combined with the dewy grass scent rising up from the lawn seemed to lighten her mood somehow. She grinned slightly to herself.

"You were inducted into the family, I see." She mused. Draco cocked his head to the side. "The sweater. Once Molly makes you one of these, you're in." She said. Draco raised a brow.

"Really, is that how it works?" Draco touched the sleeve of her sweater, rubbing the material between his fingers. "I thought Mrs. Weasley might just be going barmy."

"Hmmm... maybe you're right. You must have hexed her or something." Hermione joked.

"Of course, that must be it. It couldn't be the fact that all her children seem to think I'm an okay bloke or anything."

"Unfathomable." She smiled and he almost did, too.

"Hermione? I want to come back." He said after a pregnant pause.

"To my house?"

"Yeah." He nodded once. She could barely see the movement, it was slight in the darkness of the evening.

"Okay." She agreed.

"You're sure?" He sputtered, obviously not thinking it would be so easy.

"Yes. You must be making it quite difficult for George to get any action at his place." Hermione joked-but not really. George dated quite a bit. The term, 'date,' was used loosely, though. He mainly just met women at the clubs he'd frequent and then sleep with them. She could only imagine how hard it was having a live-in cock block.

"Well, that aside... I like being at your place." He admitted.

"I doubt that. With its female décor and annoying inhabitant, I wouldn't think you'd find it very appealing." She said sarcastically.

"Don't do that,"

"Do what?"

"Be so self-deprecating," He sighed, sounding suddenly exhausted. "You're an adequate flatmate." He insisted.

"Adequate? I think I prefer my self-deprecation, thank you very much." She said.

"Let's move on to another matter." He quickly changed the subject. "Charlotte has been writing you for a meeting all week. I understood you were angry with me when you thought what you did about me but that doesn't explain your dismissal of her. Why wouldn't you respond? I thought you two were good friends. Or was I misled?"

"No, I..." Hermione thought about the unopened letters she had received. "I didn't read her letters."

"Why the bloody hell not? That woman has been driving me up a wall all week. Even made me go out trolling with her on Friday night..." He shuddered and Hermione made an amused chirp.

"She did not!" She lightly swatted his arm in humored disbelief and he kept up the mock-horror when he saw her enjoyment at the thought.

"That woman is a nutter! She went home with a man younger than me!" He admitted. Hermione snorted.

"Charlotte and I used to go out every single weekend. She'd always try to set me up."

"Any winners?" He asked.

"Definitely not. But she could usually find herself a worthy companion. Even if only for a night. The nights she didn't were almost worse, though."

"Why's that?" He asked.

"Because alcohol acts as a truth serum for her. She talks a good game but under all the pink feathers and drama, she's just a lonely woman who craves romance." She admitted a little wistfully and sighed. "I hated seeing her like that."

"I can't imagine her that way." He said.

"Yes, well... I suppose we all get that way from time to time. She'll find someone who won't just want her for one night and she'll be crossed in love someday."

"Merlin help the bloke that attaches himself to her." Draco joked.

"Yeah..."

"You sound like you miss her." He mentioned.

"I do."

"Then why ignore her post?"

"Because I'd had enough. I figured if my book really wasn't any good I may as well sever all ties with anyone who had a hand in it and that included her. I thought she'd been lying to me about my writing quality. It was just easier not to deal with her as she was a reminder that I had failed at something." Hermione fiddled with a loose thread on the inside of her sleeve. Draco snorted.

"Avoidance. I'm familiar with that notion." He murmured. "Just make up with her, Granger. We have work to do." Hermione hesitated, looking at him. He seemed a little detached like he usually did when he wasn't being completely honest. A thought registered.

"Is that your motive for coming here and making faux amends? You need me to make up with her so I can help with your bottom line? Feeling a little pressure at work, are you?" She sneered. This conversation had her emotions all over the place. One minute they were talking about him moving back in and the next they were back to discussing work matters.

"The only pressure I feel is from myself. Your novel needs work still, Granger. Once we tweak it a bit-"

"More edits? You were just raving about how good it was a moment ago-"

"Let me finish!"

"No!" Hermione stood and scoffed, throwing the sweater back at him. He barely managed to catch it before it fell to the ground. "I _am_ sorry for how I treated you about everything the other day, Malfoy. But at this point, I'm not even sure I want to continue working with Olympus."

"With Olympus or me?" He asked angrily, getting to his feet and setting the sweater on his abandoned chair. Hermione looked away.

"I don't know." She crossed her arms. "Maybe both." Draco ran a hand wildly through his hair, frustration seeping off his body again. He took a stiff stance and glared at her.

"Well, you better make up your mind, Granger!" He growled. "Do you know how much work and resources have gone into this novel of yours so far?" His voice raised a bit louder.

"I have no idea, seeing as how most of the _wonderful_ people at Olympus enjoy deceiving me on a daily basis!" She yelled, equaling the intensity of his signature glare.

"That's not true!" He countered.

"It's absolutely true! Why would I continue to work for a company that doesn't really care about my work or—"

"Of course we care! _I_ care! If I didn't I wouldn't suggest the edits!"

"What edits could I possibly give it at this point that would make it better or more complete? Charlotte and I have been roving over it for a _year_ already, Malfoy! She told me it was practically perfect or she wouldn't have said it was ready to be reviewed by you." She poked him in the chest and he grabbed her hand, holding it firmly as she tried to pull it away.

" _Practically_ perfect." He reiterated. "But not absolutely perfect. I don't publish anything that I don't deem one hundred percent immaculate. There are a few things that need tending to," He lowered his voice a bit so he was no longer yelling at her.

"Which part needs further attention? If I rewrite it any more it will turn into another story completely-" She tried to loosen his grip, to no avail.

"The romance, Granger!" Draco said through clenched teeth and closed eyes as if it pained him to say it. He squeezed her hand so tightly. It barely didn't hurt. Hermione felt like she had been punched in the gut.

"The—what?" Her anger faltered.

The book itself was a work of romantic fiction. Had he really just told her all the romance in it needed to be rewritten?

"There are certain parts..." He paused and opened his eyes, glancing down at her. "Some of it is just... missing something." He finished.

"Missing what?" She asked, her brows were knit together harshly. Her cheeks felt warmer than they should have in the cold of the night. Draco loosened his grip on her hand. She curled and retracted her fingers a couple times. They ached a bit where he held them. His hand smoothed her fingers out and curled in the spaces between.

"Sorry," He muttered, looking down at their entwined fingers. "I don't want to ever hurt you. Physically or emotionally it's just that..." He shook his head, unable to make eye contact. "The few scenes in your book where the main characters... connect..." He paused, seeming embarrassed. "There's no passion. The encounters feel forced or inexperienced or... I don't know. It's just missing something that would allow the reader to feel it believable. There's no spark."

Hermione pulled her hand slowly away from his own. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Whether it was from embarrassment, disappointment or something else... she wasn't quite sure. Being this close to him usually came with strange results at times but nothing like this. She couldn't catch her breath or stop the tingly feeling from crawling up her arm from where he'd held her hand. Draco regarded her carefully, not saying anything.

"Oh," Was all she could muster.

"A meeting with Charlotte to talk about this would have gone better." He said matter-of-factly. "Why do you make it your mission to squeeze every ounce of dignity from me when we discuss serious things?" He asked suddenly.

"I'm a Gryffindor, Malfoy. It's my mission to seek out the truth, no matter the cost to myself. Or others, sometimes." She said in a small voice, peaking up at him through her eyelashes. He wore that wary expression he often donned.

"What am I to do about that?" He asked. Hermione sighed.

"There's nothing to be done about it. You've known me since we were eleven. You should know by now that my inquiring mind won't be denied."

Malfoy looked amused by what she said. Hermione liked the smile he gave her. His genuine smile was something she'd rarely seen growing up. It was a wonder to behold all these years later. It made him look his age, which was rare these days.

"I can't write it better." She blurted out.

"Your book? Why not?" He asked, his smile falling. Hermione took a couple steps back and turned away from him. She began walking toward the house.

"Hemione, wait up," He called after her. She turned but continued walking backward as he caught up.

"Tell me why you can't write it?"

"I'm no good at it." She said simply and faced forward again once he was by her side. Draco rushed past, effectively stopping her before she could open the back door. The dim, yellow lantern above illuminated the porch. Her hand was on the doorknob but she made no move to turn it.

"Not good at what?" He insisted.

"All of it." She said vaguely, not really wanting to admit anything.

"All of what?" His insistence won out.

"The romance stuff." She threw up her hands in defeat. "That's probably why it's not good. Nothing I could write would make it any more believable because intimacy is the one subject I don't seem to excel at," She said, trying to convince him that it didn't bother her. But it definitely did. And the look of confusion on Draco's face made her feel worse. That was all she needed, was him thinking she was some sort of pariah that couldn't even romance properly. She huffed in frustration as she tried to move around him but he wouldn't budge.

"I don't believe it for one second, Granger," He said firmly.

"Believe what you want, Malfoy, I don't-" She started but was interrupted by a set of firm hands grabbing her waist and pulling her forward. Her protest was silenced by his lips crashing down on hers. It was a firm kiss; urgent and full of something he couldn't express. Maybe it was a need to prove his point about her kissing abilities. She couldn't voice her speculation when he was kissing her as if his life depended on it, though.

She wanted to ask him what he thought he was doing. Her brain yelled at her that this shouldn't continue... but the little voice in her head told her brain to shut the hell up as she closed her eyes and succumbed to the feeling of his lips against her own. She grabbed a hold of the front of his shirt and held fast. She felt him smile and heard a soft hum come from the back of his throat.

Draco deepened the kiss once the initial shock wore off. He slowed his lips against hers like they had all the time in the world. His hands, which had been firmly on her waist, slid up her body slowly before reaching their destination to cup her face. He pulled back momentarily, grinning at her, then went in for a final, gentle kiss before leaning away, leaving her feeling adrift.

Her eyes opened slowly, lids heavy like she'd been asleep, and her body felt feverish where he'd held her. His eyes searched hers for a reaction. Both of their chests rose and fell quickly. She wanted to ask why he'd done it when the back door suddenly popped open. Hermione and Draco jumped apart, startled, and looked to the ginger-haired man with the deepest scowl on his face standing in the doorway.

"You need to come inside," Ron said firmly.

"In a minute, Weasley-" Draco said, sounding agitated by the interruption.

"Now! Something's happened!" Ron barked and held the door open expectantly. Hermione looked down at her feet and rushed past the men into the house.


	15. Explosive Consequences

**I fixed the formatting! Thank you to Ifullah and asmadasahatterbutfemale for calling the craziness to my attention! :)**

"What's happened?" Hermione quickly asked when she strode into the dining room and saw Arthur sitting at the head of the table, covered in lacerations and dirt. Several heads swiveled her way but quickly looked back to the head of the Weasley family. Molly was tending to his wounds diligently. Harry stood next to him with one of his Auror notepads out, scribbling something down.

"There was an explosion at the Ministry," Arthur said. His voice had a gritty quality to it like he'd been yelling excessively. Hermione's heart dropped.

"Was anyone seriously hurt?" She asked. He didn't respond. Instead, he looked over at Harry.

"There were some casualties, apparently," Harry said, his body tense and in Auror mode.

A hand touched her lower back. She looked over her shoulder at Draco, who took in the scene with the same concern she had shown.

"Do they need help? I trained as a Healer for a time at St. Mungo's," He asked, quickly jumping into action.

"That's not a bad idea," Arthur said. "You should go."

"We should, too," Charlie announced, looking at Hermione. He regarded her confused expression. "It was your department," He nodded toward her.

"Why would there be an explosion in such a small part of the Ministry? We don't even house anything explosive in our storerooms..."

"They think it was intentional, 'Mione." Ron said to her left. "Like a bomb."

"We don't know that yet, son. Let's just calm down and get back there to help where we can," Arthur said, trying to stand. Molly stopped him.

"Oh no, you don't, Arthur Weasley. You let the others take care of this mess. You still need these injuries taken care of," She chastised. Arthur slumped, defeated. There was no arguing with her when she had her scary face on, which she did. She turned to Harry and regarded him softly. "We'll look after Teddy, dear. He's already asleep upstairs so I don't think he'll notice you're gone. You go take care of business." Harry nodded gratefully.

"We'll let you know anything we can," Charlie assured his father, gently patting him on the shoulder before motioning the others to follow him to the floo. Hermione, Draco, Harry, and Ron followed.

"Ron, what're you doing? You don't even work at the Ministry anymore," Charlie asked, gathering the pot full of floo powder for everyone.

"I used to be an Auror. I'm sure they wouldn't mind the extra help," Ron insisted but his eyes cut to Hermione in a strange way.

"Ronnie, maybe you should stay here. I'm sure they'll have plenty of Auror's there." Lavender said, appearing at his side. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I'll be alright. It doesn't hurt to just check to see if they need help. If they don't I'll come right back, I promise." He said and pecked her goodbye on the cheek.

"Let's hurry," Harry ushered them forward and they each took a turn flooing to the Ministry.

What appeared in front of them as they entered the Ministry could only be described as organized chaos.

A crude dust swirled through the air. It smelled like sulfur and something else she couldn't place. There were papers floating down every so often that landed on the marble floor where dozens of stretchers with people were lined up. Some of the bodies were completely covered from head to toe, not moving. Those ones were off to the side a ways. The others held injured witches and wizards who were receiving medical attention. Healers and Mediwitches were flitting from person to person like busy bees but instead of being black and yellow, they were clad in lime green robes with the St. Mungo's emblem on their backs. The emblem, a wand crossed with a bone, always felt a bit morose to Hermione but she couldn't think about that now.

"Oh my god," Hermione covered her mouth with her hand in horror. She spotted Kingsley a second before Harry did and they made their way over to him. He was surrounded by Daily Prophet reporters and a few Aurors. Percy was also by his side, awaiting instruction, she'd wager.

"So you have no idea how this could have happened?" She heard a female reporter ask as they approached.

"Not at this time," Kingsley said, his normally rich voice was strained. Hermione thought it probably had something to do with the dust in the air. She immediately pulled out a handkerchief from her jeans pocket and handed it to him nonchalantly. He did a double take at who had placed the material in his hand and gave her a grateful nod before using it to cover his mouth between questions.

"Do you have any clue as to what exactly exploded yet?" Another reporter asked.

"We're not sure yet," Kingsley answered.

"Which Department did the explosion originate?" A male reporter asked.

"The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." Kingsley glanced at her as he said it and she was sure he knew more than he was letting on to the Prophet.

"No more questions. The Minister is extremely busy trying to figure everything out." Hermione butted in when one of the reporters opened their mouth to ask another question. The Aurors tensed but Kingsley signaled for them to stand down.

"Quite right. I'll have Weasley here let you know when I have more information and when I'll be available for an interview. Good evening," He inclined his head to them slightly and turned away from as they began yelling out more questions in protest. His normally bright, pristine robes were caked in dirt that flurried off of him as he walked and his robes billowed.

"Thank you for the save," He mentioned to her through the handkerchief and motioned for everyone to follow him. Hermione was on his right.

"Of course, are you alright?" She asked, concern for her old friend apparent. He nodded.

"I'm alright. Many are not so lucky."

"How did this happen?" Harry asked, unable to contain himself.

"Let's go to my office and we'll discuss it," Kingsley said. "Not any of you," He pointed to the Aurors and Percy, who all looked ready to protest. "This is sensitive information. I'll be protected enough with the Golden Trio in my office, believe me."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all looked at one another uncomfortably.

"What about Malfoy, sir?" Percy asked.

"He's here to help, just like us, Percy. Let it go." Charlie said and passed his brother by. Percy turned a shade of red but said nothing more. He and the Aurors received orders from Kingsley to go help elsewhere until summoned. Once they were gone, he let Hermione and the others into his office. He cast a few charms to clear up the air and prevent anyone from hearing their meeting. He also conjured enough chairs for everyone and sat down behind his desk, looking utterly fatigued.

"Are you sure you're alright, Minister?" Draco asked. "I used to work as a Healer, I could check your lungs, maybe?" Kingsley held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm alright, Malfoy."

"You're sure?" Draco asked.

"Of course, let's get down to it." Kingsley gave a pointed look at Charlie and Hermione. "As you're now aware, your department was where the explosion happened. It was no accident."

"So it _was_ a bomb!" Ron exclaimed. Kingsley nodded.

"I've already had experts up in the department to investigate while I dealt with the injured and the Prophet swarming. I've been told it was completely intentional."

"How could you tell?" Charlie asked. "And for what purpose?"

"We're fairly sure it has to do with your case with the dragons," Kingsley said. "The bomb in question was set off in Hermione's office." There was a beat of silence.

"My office? I'm not even on that case anymore as of this last week." Hermione said.

"I've been using your office when I come to the Ministry for the case, though, 'Mione." Charlie admitted slowly. That was news to her. Not that it bothered her to have him use it while she was on leave but it made some sense as to why they thought it had something to do with the dragon case her department had been tirelessly working on the last six months.

"There's more," Kingsley said.

"More?" She asked.

"There was a note, of sorts. A warning."

"The department was exploded. What sort of note could have survived?" Ron asked.

"It was a magically sealed roll of parchment placed in one of the steel filing cabinets. It was written in blood. Dragon's blood." Kingsley pulled a roll out from his robes and set it on the desk. It didn't look special in any way. It seemed to just be a plain roll of parchment. She glanced at Harry as if asking permission to open it. He was an Auror, after all, and would indicate whether or not he deemed it okay for her to do so.

"Have you had a chance to have the note inspected for enchantments yet?" He asked, giving Kingsley a knowing glance.

"I wouldn't let anyone near it if I hadn't. Once the Aurors cleared it, I had it brought up to my office. I didn't want anyone else seeing it until Hermione was able to." He replied, scrubbing a hand down his face and letting it settle near his chin. He appeared exhausted. Being the Minister of Magic had to be taxing. Hermione felt for him.

Harry nodded his head slightly, an indication she could go ahead with opening it. She stood and unrolled it, using a couple paperweights to hold it open.

"Bloody hell," Draco murmured as they read.

 _Granger: Consider this your final warning. Don't go any further or we'll have no choice but to retaliate. This display of power is nothing compared to what we have in store if you do not comply._

Hermione blanched at the note. It looked like it was typed out on a computer. A strange concept considering the note was intended for someone in the wizarding world by someone from that same community, supposedly. She surmised it had to be someone with a small amount of muggle knowledge. Either that or they were really advanced at scriptography spells.

"What's our move here, Minister?" Draco asked. "I know very little about this case Granger and Weasley have been working on but if this is the retaliation they're getting for digging where they ought not to, maybe they _should_ back off."

"No," Hermione said. "This just proves how right we were about taking a stand."

"What have you got yourself into, 'Mione?" Ron asked. Harry looked about to ask the same thing.

"Hermione stumbled upon documentation of an obscure department. It said they're operating under the Ministry's umbrella. Their paperwork seemed to be checking out at first but upon further investigation, we noticed loads of discrepancies. At the hearing we had last week they were nearly disbanded and discredited but they were able to stay in business at the last moment." Charlie said.

"How?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not completely sure. I wasn't in the room when they spoke to the Wizengamot. They had us plead our cases separately." He said.

"Bribery, probably." Draco scoffed. "Who are these people? What are they doing, exactly?"

"The department name is merely labeled as, DVF." Hermione said. "We were told it meant, 'Dragon Verified Facilities.' They own and care for the Dragons that are used for St Mungo's. Their environment and living conditions are cruel. They're starved and mistreated."

"Blimey," Ron exclaimed. "How did you even find out about this?"

"It was sort of an accident, really." Hermione looked sheepish.

"By the look on your face, Granger, I seriously doubt it," Draco said, smirking at her.

"Fine. I was in my departments' old archives looking through the cold cases. I'd been having a really slow year. With the Elvish Rights Law being tied up in Legal the past couple of years, I didn't have a whole lot to do. It was mainly paperwork for creature registering and such. I hadn't had a meaty case in such a long time. I figured if I could go through the cold cases and eliminate as many as I could, maybe it'd distract me until something more substantial came along. That's when I found this case file for DVF.

"It was a case that was brought to the Ministry more than forty years ago. But when I tried to look into it, the date of the DVF's papers read they'd been established more recently than that; within the last ten years. That was my first red flag. I thought maybe it was a coincidence; that the names were just similar and they were separate groups. All the paperwork said otherwise. Both are one and the same. They have been breeding and producing Dragon supplies for almost fifty years and no one has thought to eradicate or question them for their horrid treatment and conditions. They've somehow gone without real Ministry supervision this entire time. The cold case files I found didn't even specify why the case went cold, really, other than insufficient evidence. It was a lie, though, there was plenty of evidence to shut them down." Hermione finished. Harry, Ron, and Draco had furrowed brows like they didn't quite understand. "I think it's a cover-up." She added.

"We do, too," Charlie said. "The leader of the facilities I work at in Romania said as much. The law states plainly that the breeding and raising of Dragon's in the UK is basically illegal, which is why it's mostly done in countries like Romania where there's more land and less of a chance of being discovered by muggles. There are exceptions, of course, and one of those is the increased need for medical supplies due to wartime."

"Wait, like the Second Wizarding War?" Harry asked and looked at Hermione in thinly veiled shock. "You said the organization started up again ten years ago?" Hermione nodded.

"I connected those dots, too, Harry, but there's no evidence yet suggesting it could be run by supporters of Voldemort."

"It has to be! Think about it, 'Mione, who would have the most to gain from the breeding of Dragons and selling their supplies to places like St. Mungo's? Wars cost money. A lot of it. Voldemort had the support of Pureblood families, but even they had to be inconspicuous with their spending so they wouldn't get caught! We need to seek these people out; question whoever was a suspect last time," Ron said, his voice getting louder as he spoke. He cut a glare towards Draco.

"What you're saying makes sense, Weasley, but Granger can't just go accusing random suspected supporters. This note proves how dangerous these people are. Do you want harm to come to her? They already blew up the sodding Ministry!" Draco said angrily.

"I'm not afraid of them, Draco," Hermione said, sounding braver than she felt. In truth, though, the reach of the organization and their ability to smuggle a bomb into the Ministry had her quite rattled.

"I don't care, Hermione! You're not to pursue this further!" Draco demanded.

"It's my choice," She said, trying to convey some authority. Draco rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. "This was my discovery; my case to begin with-"

"I hate to say this but Malfoy is right, Hermione," Harry said. "There's no way you can continue the investigation. The note was clear-"

"So we're negotiating with terrorists now?" Hermione yelled. "When has that ever worked in our favor, Harry?"

"It's not even your case anymore," Charlie reminded her. "I took it over, remember? So the point is moot."

"I can't believe this!" She shook her head.

"I know you want to help. And we don't plan to negotiate with anyone who means this establishment or its inhabitants any harm. But we need to come up with a plan of attack that won't cause them to retaliate. Until then, you should be as far from this case as possible." Kingsley said. His voice still rather hoarse.

"So I'm back to pushing around copious amounts of paperwork, then?" She didn't want to seem ungrateful for her job, but the endless forms and stacks of permits and licenses gave her no real challenge anymore. This case had breathed life into her work again for the first time in months. She thought she'd be doing more with her time here at the Ministry.

"For now," Kingsley said sympathetically.

"Good. Now that that's settled and I know you'll be safe, I'm going back to help with the relief efforts." Draco said and spun on his heels and made a speedy exit.

"I'll go, too. See what I can salvage for the case in the offices." Charlie said and followed Draco out.

"Be careful!" Kingsley called after them, his throat scratchy. He turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and sighed. "As for you three, I need you all downstairs where you can be seen."

"For what?" Ron asked.

"If this is, indeed, tied to any of Voldemort's lingering supporters, I want every Daily Prophet to have your faces on them. It'll send a message that even though you've all gone on to lead separate careers, your vigilance to abolish Voldemort's efforts is as strong as ever." Kingsley said.

"You just told Hermione she had to stay out of this." Harry reminded him, a warning in his tone.

"I want her far away from that Dragon case. But the only thing Death Eaters are more frightened of than Harry Potter is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger at his side. They don't call you guys the Golden Trio for nothing. Together, you form a symbol that the Ministry and magic folk all over the United Kingdom desperately need right now. It'll give us strength."

"What do you need us to do?" Ron inquired.

"I need you to simply be seen. If the Prophet asks for an interview, which they will, let them know you're not allowed to comment but you'd be willing to take a photograph. You three haven't been pictured together in quite some time. To the Prophet, it'd be ample opportunity to sell more papers. They won't be able to resist." Kingsley's wary expression had a bitter undertone to it. "I am hopeful that whomever did this will see you three standing strongly beside the Ministry and back off."

"I hope so, too. But somehow I doubt it." Harry said as he wrote a few more scribbles in his notepad. "Is that all, sir?" He looked back up. Kingsley nodded.

"Yes. Go now."


	16. None Of Your Business

A few hours later things were finally calming down. The reporters for the Daily Prophet had left. The bustle from the explosion had subsided. The Ministry had been evacuated and the only people left inside the large establishment were Aurors, Healers, the Minister, his staff, Hermione, and her friends. Things were quiet. Only the soft tone of voices from the Healers and Mediwitches could be heard as they spoke to their patients.

As Kingsley had anticipated, the Prophet tried to hound Harry, Ron, and Hermione for interviews. When it was clear they'd get none, they settled for photos instead. Most of which were taken of them helping people evacuate and tending to people whose injuries weren't as immediate so that the Healers could focus on the more dire cases. The Prophet did make them take a posed picture together, though, and Hermione suspected it'd probably be front page in the morning. The thought made her inwardly groan. They should be focusing on this tragedy, not her and her friends.

It was a little after midnight now. Hermione was bandaging a laceration. The wounded witch laying in front of her was young and beautiful. She had blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail that must have been pristine at some point but was now matted in blood from the head wound she suffered. Luckily it was nothing more than a shallow cut. A Healer informed Hermione that head wounds usually bled significantly more even if they weren't severe. She schooled Hermione in how to perform magical stitches and gave her a Mediwitch kit.

The young witch had long ago fallen asleep after being administered calming draught. She lay peacefully on a small stretcher, ready to be transported the moment Hermione was done patching her up.

"How are you holding up?" Ron's voice asked. She looked over her left shoulder and gave him a weak smile. He had been helping with transport and looked as tired as she felt. He kept his hair a fair bit shorter these days and it stuck to his head with perspiration.

"As well as could be expected," She replied, turning back and placing some medical tape to keep the gauze in place. "You?"

"Almost everyone has been taken safely to St. Mungo's. We're just waiting on the half dozen or so left here." He inclined towards the other witches and wizards spread haphazardly around the atrium near the large fountains. Hermione finished her work and stood, stretching her aching muscles. It felt glorious to stand erect after being hunched over for so long while she worked. She peered out at the others to see if anyone indicated needing her assistance. None did and she sighed, relieved.

"What were you doing?" Ron's voice was right next to her ear. She shot him a puzzled expression. They were shoulder to shoulder now.

"You saw for yourself. I was administering stitches," She pointed to the witch at her feet.

"No. Earlier. With Malfoy. I saw you together." His tone hushed, like it was something dirty. It reminded her of when no one would call Voldemort by his name. The constant 'you know who' and 'he who must not be named' phrases had become second nature to everyone. As had the angsty, uncomfortable expressions they wore when they spoke them. Ron had that look about him as he mentioned Draco's name and waited for her response.

In all the commotion of what happened, Hermione had almost forgotten about Draco kissing her back at the Burrow. Almost.

There had been a small exchange between them a couple hours back as he helped her with a severely injured wizard. He'd come to her rescue, really, when he saw her struggling. The wizard had been bleeding quite a bit from losing a hand. While she was trying to deal with that, someone had brought her his missing hand to reattach. She'd never felt so nauseous in her whole life. Blood and lacerations were never a big deal to her. But a rogue hand?

Draco had swooped in, taken the hand from her, and made quick work of things. Before he'd stood back up to go assist someone else, he'd given her a genuine smile, causing a mild attack of butterflies in her chest. He'd given her a knowing look and moved on.

Hermione wasn't sure how much of her encounter with Draco Ron had seen. She didn't want to lie to him but didn't feel like sharing, either. She looked over at Draco. He was in deep discussion with a Healer. All this medical stuff seemed to be in his element; he definitely held a knack for helping people.

"We're friends," She finally said. It was the truth, despite the minor bumps of misunderstanding.

"It seemed to be way more than that," He accused. "You were kissing! How long has this been going on?"

"That was the only time we've..." She lingered off, feeling a tad defensive all of a sudden. "Why does it matter?" She looked at Ron. He was fuming. His cheeks were scarlet-red and his ears held that familiar pink hue they got when he was embarrassed or angry. He looked back at her defiantly.

"He's Malfoy. The biggest git around-"

"I thought you two were friends now,"

"Friends?" He sputtered. "I tolerate him because he's been a good mate to George since Fred died. I'm civil to him because he was there for him at a time when it was the most important. But don't ever mistake my civility for friendship."

"Are you going to act like Percy now?" She asked quietly, disappointment filled her voice. "Is it really so hard to just let bygones be and start over? He's entwined with the whole family now."

"I don't have to be friends with him, Hermione. Especially if he's going after you-"

"Stop right there," Hermione turned towards him fully and held up a hand. "You don't get to say anything on that matter. Malfoy kissing me is my business. I haven't even spoken to _him_ about it yet."

"It is _completely_ my business!" He retorted.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm the one who caught you two in the act!" His lips turned down in a grimace. "I don't care how much he's changed, he's still a foul, horrid, disgusting-"

"Sorry to interrupt," Draco was suddenly right next to them. "Healer Adams would like you to move this patient now." Hermione felt her face get warm and averted her eyes. He gave her a curious expression. "Ready, Weasley?" He asked, not even looking at Ron.

"Yeah, sure," Ron replied and muttered, _Levicorpus_. The witch levitated upwards and Ron walked to one of the Medifloo's that led straight to St. Mungo's. Green flames engulfed his foul expression and he was gone.

"Are you going with them and the remaining patients?" She asked, still not looking at him.

"I was thinking about it. Healer Adams doesn't think it will be necessary but I would like to make sure everyone is alright." He said.

"Makes sense." She replied. "I'll see you later, then," She took a step towards the floo's thinking she'd head home. She still had work in the morning and figured she could do with at least a few hours of sleep before then. She was also filthy and needed a good, long shower. Draco grabbed her hand, effectively halting her steps.

"We have much to discuss, you and I. Don't think I've forgotten," He whispered in her ear, sending tingles down her body, and released her. She took an involuntary step back and blanched. "I'll see you back home?" He asked, trying to reaffirm he was still welcome. Hermione nodded weakly, unable to do much else, and headed to the floo's.

"Hermione, hold up!" Harry jogged and caught up with her just as she was about to step in a fireplace.

"What's wrong, Harry?" She asked.

"Nothing," He shook his head and smiled, reassuring her. "I just wanted to ask a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Will you go pick up Teddy and take him to your house?" He asked.

"I thought Molly said she'd watch him?"

"She did but their house is probably going to be very busy the next few days with this Ministry business. Plus Charlie is staying there a while longer," He looked uncomfortable mentioning the last bit. It wasn't a look often associated with any of the Weasley's. It took Hermione a moment to fit the pieces together.

"You're worried for his safety, aren't you? Because Charlie is still working the Dragon case and you don't know what that will mean." She said slowly. Harry hesitated but then nodded, looking down at his feet.

"Teddy has been through enough. I know they'll understand where I'm coming from,"

"Of course they will, Harry!" Hermione grabbed him and hugged him tightly. "You've both been through so much. It makes complete sense you'd be overprotective. I'll take him to my house and he can stay for as long as you need. I'll have to bring him to work with me, though." She added. Harry drew back and shook his head.

"Kingsley has your entire Department on probation until we can figure out who brought in the bomb and how they managed it. For now, you're to work from home while the rest of your Department is questioned. He said to tell you sorry for all the mundane paperwork that'll be milling in and out of your house tomorrow." He looked at her apologetically. She couldn't bring herself to be too vexed. She'd get to spend time with Teddy and work from home.

"It'll be fine. I'm sure they'll catch who did this. Until then, you know I've got the best wards on my house in all of London." She winked. Harry visibly relaxed and smiled gratefully.

"Thank you so much. It'll make me feel better to know he's somewhere safe."

Draco approached with another patient.

"I thought you'd gone, Granger." He said and looked back and forth between Harry and herself.

"Harry needed a favor," She mentioned.

"What favor?"

"I'm picking up Teddy. He's staying with us a few days." She smiled, truly excited to spend quality time with the kid.

"What about my Aunt, Andromeda?" He asked.

"Her health isn't doing too well these days," Harry said regretfully. "Teddy primarily lives with me now. She only has him one or two days a week."

"I see," Draco said, looking a tad uncomfortable like he wasn't sure what to say. "I have to take him to the hospital now," He gestured to the patient levitating in front of him. Harry and Hermione nodded. "Put my cousin in the guest room, Granger. I'll crash on the couch when I get back."

"Are you sure?" She asked, feeling a tad guilty.

"Of course." He nodded and then disappeared through the Medifloo.

"So that's all patched up now, right?" Harry asked after a beat.

"For the most part. It was just a big misunderstanding."

"I'm glad."

"Oh?"

"He wasn't much fun to be around last week," Harry revealed. "Not that he's a treat to be around normally."

"When did you bump into each other?"

"We didn't, really. I invited George out for drinks one evening and they showed up together," he said. "He was acting like more of an ass than he usually does these days so I knew something had to be up."

"He was probably just being grumpy and taciturn, like usual," she said.

"You're right, he was. But more so, as I said." Harry watched her as she thought that out.

The entire Draco situation was a bit mind-boggling, to say the least. It had her wondering about things she shouldn't and debating things about herself that she hadn't thought of in years.

"Did he say anything about me?" She found herself asking. Harry sighed.

"Yeah, Hermione, he did." He revealed. "He wanted to know how you were doing, which I thought was odd. That's when George let me know Malfoy had moved out of your place." He pocketed the notebook he'd been holding as well as the muggle pen he always carried. "Why didn't you tell me something had happened between you two?"

"It was something I had to deal with on my own," She replied, looking away from him towards the floo. "I should go,"

"Hermione," Harry said in a warning tone. "Be careful. Malfoy seems to have grown out of his prejudiced ways but you know as well as I do: once a Deatheater, always a Deatheater. I didn't like the idea of him staying with you in the first place. Now that you've worked whatever you fought about out, you need to be smart and not be so carefree this time."

"You think I was carefree about him staying with me? I fought Ginny on it. So much so that she threatened to not live with me once she got home."

"I thought that was about me?" Harry asked.

"That was part of it. But it stemmed from her friendships with past Voldemort supporters and how she seemed to take their side over yours by not standing up for you at that party. She and I fought about letting him stay there. I told her how wary it made me. She knew my past with his family. I did not agree lightly, Harry." Hermione argued. "Now that I know what sort of person he is and what a mistake I made that caused our fight, I feel better about having him there."

"So you're letting him stay with you again? What he mentioned about sleeping on your couch is true?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I was horrid to him," She closed her eyes a second before continuing. She still felt awful about being so mistaken about Draco's intentions as her publisher. "I'm the one who made a terrible judgment call and caused our row. I can't even believe he'd want to come back or..." She stopped herself from revealing the kiss. It was bad enough that Ron knew about it. Harry probably wouldn't act much differently from him.

"I trust you," Harry said matter-of-factly. "More than almost anyone else in my life. That's why I asked if Teddy could stay with you. And that's why I'm still allowing him to stay even though Malfoy will be there. I'm just asking you to be cautious."

"Aren't I always?" She looked into his green eyes and a small smile played at his lips.

"Too much, sometimes." He replied.

"You know I like my rules."

"Too much, sometimes," He said again and laughed. He pulled her into a hug and she let him hold her for a moment. So much had happened in the course of a day. It was a relief to know that despite everything, Harry would always be there for her. A true best friend.

"I have to go fetch Teddy," She said into his shoulder. He sighed and let her go.

"Tell him I'll come around tomorrow sometime. I'll probably be here most of the night."

"Try to get a few hours of shuteye," She insisted. He nodded but she suspected he probably wouldn't.

"Be safe, Harry."

"I'll do my best Hermione."


	17. Breakfast With Teddy

**Hullo, everyone! Happy Holiday Season from America! My updates have been a little off-kilter due to oral surgery and Holiday adventuring but I'm trying my best to post a new chapter at least once a week so please keep reading/favoriting/following, etc. I enjoy your feedback! xoxox**

The morning brought with it pancakes and eggs. Hermione made quick work of picking up Teddy the evening before and relaying everything she could to Arthur and Molly. They were grateful to her, seeing as how none of the boys had made it back to the Burrow yet. Lavender had even fallen asleep on their couch waiting for news.

Luckily Teddy hadn't woken when Hermione transported him back home. The kid slept like the dead.

It was almost eight am when Hermione got up to make everyone breakfast. She'd hardly slept the whole night. She kept tossing and turning; her nightmares keeping her from feeling rested when she finally did manage to fall asleep. And since sleep seemed to be pretty much futile, she crept downstairs in her sweats and a jumper to make food.

Hermione heard light snoring before her foot hit the bottom floor. She looked towards the couch and felt herself smile with humor. She'd never realized how tall Draco actually was. He was laying on his back. His head perched on a pillow but turned slightly to the side, facing the floo on his right where embers lingered in the fireplace. His feet were perched up on the opposite side, hanging off the end. One of his arms lay draped over his middle but the other hung off the couch onto the floor. It was a silly sight to behold. His frame was entirely too long for her tiny couch.

She tiptoed to get a better look at his face. She'd never seen him asleep before.

His features were relaxed, making him look younger. His mouth was hanging slightly ajar. The light snores diminished as he turned in his sleep. He faced the back of the couch now, in a fetal position. He had his blanket bunched up in his arms as if he were hugging it. Hermione had a better view now that he was facing towards her. His light blonde hair was long enough that it fell over his forehead and eyes. Hermione itched to sweep it back behind his ear where it usually laid curled around the shell. She stole herself away, though, to start breakfast, feeling strange for staring so long.

She involuntarily thought back to the kiss.

Then she very voluntarily shoved that thought down.

If she kept thinking about it, more questions would wrack her brain and nothing would get done.

Opting to get it off her mind and stay busy, she began making pancake batter and cracking several eggs in a bowl to be whisked. She set stirring spells in motion while she prepared the hot pans on the stove. Once the pans were heated, she halted the stirring and started ladling batter into one and emptied the mixed eggs in the other to begin the cooking process.

While she waited to flip things, she got going on coffee prep. She remembered Draco seemed to like the same things she did in her coffee so she set out the creamer and a couple mugs and spoons on the breakfast bar.

"Aunt Hermione!" Teddy's excited boyish voice cut through the quiet and startled her, causing her to drop the juice she had retrieved from the fridge on the floor. The pitcher shattered, spilling juice every which way. Hermione whipped around and held up a hand to the boy and he stopped in his tracks, looking guilty.

"Stop right there, I don't want you to step on any glass," She warned.

"I'm sorry!" He said. His hair turned deep blue, almost navy.

"Don't be. I'll have it cleaned up in no time," She said as she grabbed up her wand and scourgified the mess away. Only when she smiled back up at him did he fling himself in her arms.

"I thought I was dreaming! I haven't been to your house forever!" He said as he clung to her midsection.

"Harry had me bring you over late last night. You might be here a few days if that's alright with you?" She asked him.

"Yeah!" He shouted.

"Oi!" A grumpy male voice called out. "Some of us are still sleeping."

"You can't be asleep if you're talking to us," Teddy said. "Wait, can he? I've heard that some people sleeptalk. Is that true, Aunt Hermione?"

"It is true. But Draco isn't. He's just being a grouch. Why don't you sit up at the bar? Breakfast is almost ready."

"Don't mind if I do," Draco said groggily as he stood, stretching his body as far up as it would go before walking over to the breakfast bar. He immediately reached for the coffee and didn't even bother putting creamer in it before sucking it down.

"You know you can sit, right?" Teddy asked, taking his place on one of the stools. Draco regarded him with an exhausted expression.

"Can't sit, kid. Gotta get ready for work."

"Without eating breakfast?"

"This _was_ breakfast," Draco tapped the side of the now empty mug with his hand, causing a clinking noise from a ring he wore on his middle finger.

"You sure you don't want a piece of toast or anything?" Hermione deadpanned, thinking back to the first morning he'd stayed at her house. His lip twitched, catching her nuance.

"I think I'll pass this time," He replied and left the room to presumably go get ready.

"I think he's sort of funny," Teddy said after a moment. Hermione smiled to herself as she flipped another pancake. "Can we have chocolate chips on them?" He asked when she slid a stack to him. She pointed to the pancakes and smiled.

"Cut it open and let me know if you think that'll be necessary."

Teddy smiled wide and did what he was told. The second his fork sliced into the stack, chocolate oozed out of the sides, effectively making his hair turn a happy shade of yellow.

"Chocolate syrup?" He asked, excited.

"Chocolate syrup." She affirmed. He dug in greedily and she smiled affectionately at him a moment before making herself a plate, sans chocolate, and pouring herself some coffee.

They ate in contented silence. Teddy humming some muggle song and her reading the Daily Prophet that had been delivered after they sat down.

Just as she suspected, she was on the front page with Harry and Ron. There were several images of them at the Ministry and one from them at Hogwarts right after the war. The headline read: 'The Golden Trio At It Again: Ten years after the war, they're still fighting against dark wizards!' It went into some detail about how they took down Voldemort in the Second Wizarding War before launching into what was going on at the Ministry.

Surprisingly, there was also a photo of Draco in the bottom corner speaking with a Healer. The Prophet hadn't published a picture of him in quite some time. At least, none she remembered seeing. He and his lineage were a pariah to society these days; having lost their high standing the moment they chose to side with Voldemort. The article wrote a ton of speculation on the bombing, each theory crazier than the next. One, in particular, was a preposterous overreach, suggesting it might have something to do with Draco and his past affiliations. They were obviously grasping at straws due to the lack of actual facts. Hermione scoffed her disapproval.

"The Prophet spouting lovely truths again, I gather?" Draco asked sarcastically when he came back into the kitchen and glanced over her shoulder at the paper. Hermione tried to fold it but he splayed a hand over it to stop her. "Figures," He snorted, pointing at his own photograph. "They _would_ assume I'd be there to do more harm than good." He read the article some more, leaning his entire torso against her back. She could smell his aftershave as his face hovered close to hers. The scent of mint was intoxicating. Hermione tried to take a sip of her coffee to steady her nerves. The proximity to him made her pulse erratic. Draco drew back, shaking his head. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Can we go to Uncle George's shop today?" Teddy piped up. Hermione shot him a smile.

"That's a possibility," She mused, smirking at the boy. His hair was still bright yellow. Obviously happy. It made her heart happy, as well, to see him in such good spirits.

"Could you wait?" Draco asked. He was gathering up some things for work in a satchel.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Have an urge to be pranked?"

"Who wouldn't?" Teddy asked through a mouthful of eggs. "I prefer to do the pranking, though!"

"As most boys your age often do," Draco chuckled. He closed his bag and strode back over to the kitchen island. "I'd rather you wait to leave the house until I can go with you," He said more to Hermione than Teddy.

"Are you implying I can't take care of Teddy or myself?" She asked, feeling annoyed.

"I wouldn't dare," He smirked at her stubborn expression. "I know you're a talented witch. But the last thing I want to do is worry about you all day, not after what happened yesterday."

"What happened?" Teddy asked. "Did something happen to Harry? Is that why I'm here?" The child was pretty intuitive. Understandably so. Harry was his Godfather, after all.

"No, of course not!" Hermione reassured him and patted his hand before turning back to Draco. "We can wait, I suppose. Just don't be too late coming home. The shop closes at seven."

"Yes, dear," Draco said facetiously and winked before turning and heading towards the floo. "And lock up after I leave. I'll apparate back later." He called behind him and vanished into emerald flames.

Hermione decided to gloss over his 'dear' comment and instead focus on Teddy, whose hair was back to its normal teal hue. He looked concerned. His eyebrows were pulled together, his mouth set in a familiar disgruntled line. When he held such a serious expression, he reminded her so much of Remus.

"I think we need to have a chat," She said to him. He put down his fork and nodded once. For a ten-year-old, he carried himself more like forty sometimes.

Hermione turned herself to face him and sighed.

"Something terrible happened at the Ministry last night. A lot of people were hurt or killed. Not Harry," She rushed out when it looked like he was panicked. "Or anyone else we know. But it was a terrible situation. Harry had to stay at the Ministry to help."

"Because he's an Auror and that's what they do," Teddy said like he'd heard it a million times; which he probably had.

"Yes, exactly. He wants to figure out how this could have happened so it won't ever happen again." She said.

"How come Draco doesn't want us to leave, though?"

"Ah well, Draco is a tad bit concerned. The people who caused trouble were trying to scare me and the people who work in my Department. The case I'm working has caused more than a few ruffled feathers." She said regrettably. The boy didn't like the sound of that one bit.

"Then he's right, we should stay home. At least until Harry comes back to say he caught the bad guys,"

"I hope it's that simple." She said, smiling at how child-like his comment was. "But I don't want you to worry too much. I just don't want to keep you in the dark." She said.

"I like that. Most of the grown-ups keep stuff from me." He said sadly.

"Like what?"

"Well, loads of things, really. Grandma Andy doesn't like talking about my Mum or Dad. When I ask questions, she looks really sad and changes the subject."

"Do you understand why?" Hermione asked softly. Teddy shrugged. "You may have lost your Mum and Dad to a terrible war, but she lost her daughter and son in law; they were her only real family aside from you. When we're hurting, we tend to push away the things that remind us why we hurt in the first place. It's sad she won't open up, but try to be mindful that she's not doing it on purpose."

"I know that. I just wonder about them sometimes," He said sadly, poking a fork at his abandoned eggs.

"You can ask Harry about them. Or me. I'll tell you anything you'd like to know." She ran a hand through his bright tendrils and he nodded.

"Thanks, Aunt Hermione."

"So aside from our outing to Diagon Alley later, what do you want to do today? I have to work from home so loads of owls will probably be coming and going... but I'm sure we can find _something_ to occupy our time." She said the last part with a sly tone and expression as she tapped her fingers against her chin. She knew exactly what Teddy would want to do. It's what he always asked to do when he came over.

"Can we look through your library?" He asked excitedly.

"I'm not sure you could handle it. I've added at least another hundred or so volumes since you've been here last," she said. He grinned, springing from his chair to bolt upstairs. "Careful with the old ones!" She called after him and smiled to herself as he yelled back a promise that he would.

A big thing they shared in common was their love for knowledge, which explained why he'd been so downtrodden about Andromeda not being forthcoming. The kid loved learning. He read everything from comics to spellbooks. It made him all the more excited to start Hogwarts in the Fall; the library there was something he talked about visiting all the time.

She could hardly believe he'd be eleven and heading off to school so soon. She recalled when Lupin told them about his birth. How excited and joyous he had been. It felt like a lifetime ago...

Hermione set a washing spell on the dishes and put away all the cooking supplies and perishables. She could hear the floorboards upstairs creak here and there. It was comforting to have someone besides herself in the house again. She'd been pretty lonely the last week without Ginny or Draco around.

A tapping at the kitchen window signaled the first owl of the day. She'd have a lot to do to keep her day occupied, she had no doubt about it.


	18. Homecoming

The day had gone just as she predicted. Hermione set up shop for her workload upstairs at the desk in her room. She moved it in front of the window, her bookshelves flanking it on either side, to make it easier to receive owls. She sighed heavily at the large stacks of paperwork she had yet to do. She'd organized a sorting system hours ago to keep track of the different types of forms, letters, and memos she'd been receiving; her 'finished' pile growing slowly but surely.

It was unfair, really, that she was stuck with the entire Departments work due to the questioning. But it couldn't be helped and at least she felt challenged. There was nothing worse than feeling bored with your work, in her opinion.

Teddy was sprawled out on her bed. He had his nose in, 'Quidditch Through The Ages.' He was determined to get on a house team once he went to school. He'd told her earlier that if Harry could do it, so could he. She just shook her head in humor. She'd always felt Quidditch wasn't the safest or most entertaining sport. Everyone in her family loved it, though, so she always tried her best to feign an interest. Besides, she didn't want to be someone who would dash Teddy's hopes and dreams. Sure, Harry had been the youngest wizard to be recruited to a house team in over a century and no one that young had been recruited since, but with him as his coach, Teddy may just have a fighting chance.

"Aunt Hermione?" He asked. She turned from a stack of reading material that was boring her greatly and peered at him over her reading glasses.

"Hmm?"

"I think I heard the floo," He said.

Hermione listened to the silence. She didn't hear anything.

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm," He nodded and pointed to his ears. "My hearing is really good cause Dad was a Were." He added. Hermione's eyes widened. She'd studied a lot about Werewolves throughout the years. It first stemmed from the essay Professor Snape had assigned them in their third year that led her to discover Lupin's secret. But the subject continued to fascinate her. Were's hardly ever reproduced for fear of passing their genes to any offspring. And when they did, the characteristics weren't always the same or guaranteed. It was fascinating to learn something new and unique. But it also made her a little uneasy, not knowing what sort of life Teddy might have as a result of both of his parents' characteristics.

"They're coming upstairs," He whispered to her, sounding on edge. Hermione fished her wand out of her pocket. She cursed herself for forgetting to lock up everything as Draco had instructed. If it were someone she knew, she felt like they'd have made their presence known already.

"In the closet, Teddy, now," She whispered her instruction clearly for him and pointed to the closet near the open bedroom door. He quietly hopped off the bed and complied. She rushed behind him and positioned the hanging clothes in front of his small frame so that anyone who'd open it wouldn't see him. She put a finger to her mouth to signal him to be quiet and gently slid the door closed.

The footsteps were slightly audible to her now. Whoever crept about her house seemed to intentionally be making their steps as light as possible. Hermione stood in the middle of the room, wand raised, blood pumping in her ears. She hadn't felt this kind of adrenaline in years. It made her not only incredibly nervous but also somewhat nostalgic; her entire school career was outlined with this feeling. It made her miss Hogwarts terribly.

A floorboard right at the top of the steps creaked loudly like it always did, and Hermione braced herself.

The figure that came into view wasn't who she expected.

"Ginny?"

Ginny Weasley rounded the corner and blanched at Hermione's raised wand.

"Hermione, what the hell?" Her eyes were wide and rimmed in red. No makeup adorned her normally made-up face. Her clothes lacked the style and put-together air about them and she seemed quite melancholy behind her startled expression. Something was off. Hermione counted the days since she had been gone. Only a little over a week. It was way too early for her to be home. But she felt a huge gust of relief wash over her. She flung her wand on the bed and rushed to hug the redhead around her shoulders.

"I'm so glad you're home!"

"Didn't look that way a second ago," Ginny tried to sound humorous but her natural bite was lacking.

"What's wrong, Gin?"

"I should be asking you that. You don't normally look so freakin' jumpy." She hugged Hermione back with fervor.

"Ugh it's such a long story—oh! Have you been to see your Dad?" Hermione pulled back to look at her best friend.

"Yeah, I stopped there first on my way ho,e." Ginny said. "Dad seems good, despite the injuries."

"Grandpa was hurt?" A muffled, boyish voice asked. Ginny jumped a little, looking towards the closet. "You got Harry in the closet or something?" She muttered jokingly. Hermione stifled a laugh. After all these years, all the Weasley's gave Harry a hard time about being kept in a cupboard. Not unkindly, though. He usually barked out laughter at their jabs.

"Oops! Come on out, Teddy!"

"Teddy?"

The closet slid open and Teddy crawled out.

"Hey Ginny," He grinned up at her quickly before reiterating his question. "Is Grandpa hurt?"

"Only a little. He's already much better." Ginny said and ruffled his hair a little before pulling him into a big hug. "Oh, how I missed you." Teddy hugged her around the middle and they held on a few moments. Despite her and Harry not making things work, she had tried to be in his life as much as possible. She may not have been ready to be a mother so early in her life but she was incredibly talented at it. Teddy got tickets to her Quidditch matches whenever he wanted and they wrote all the time. She'd frequently visit Andromeda's when he was there. Since the breakup though, she had yet to go back to Grimmauld place to see him there. Hermione suspected it was still way too hard for her. Giving up that life with Harry and Teddy hadn't been easy.

"I missed you, too," Teddy said as he pulled back.

"She wasn't gone so long," Hermione reminded him.

"Since Teddy's been primarily at Harry's, we haven't seen as much of each other," Her tone spoke volumes of the regret in her words. "Maybe we can see if Harry will let you stay with us more often, hmm?"

"Maybe," He looked away.

"Maybe? What's this maybe business?" She tried to sound humorous again, her smile barely touched her eyes.

"Well, you'll be too busy with quidditch training soon. And then I'm off to Hogwarts in the Fall..." He shrugged, trying not to look like it bothered him. Hermione could see how much he missed her. Harry made that exact same look any time Ginny's name was mentioned.

"Leave it to me, love," She ruffled his hair again. "We'll make it work. I'll talk to him." Teddy looked as if he wasn't counting on it. Hermione knew she had to break the tension somehow.

"Why don't we all go downstairs and get dinner started? Draco will be home soon and then we're off to Diagon Alley."

"Draco?" Ginny asked, her tone insinuating her surprise. "He's still here? You didn't drive him away?" She chuckled.

"Well, uh..." Hermione looked down at her feet. "We can talk later. I want to hear all about your trip."

"Pass," Ginny said flatly and walked out of the room. Hermione and Teddy followed her into the small hallway. "I'm going to change my clothes. I'll be down soon," she said.

"Any requests? We _are_ celebrating your homecoming," Hermione mentioned.

"Anything, 'Mione." Ginny said unenthusiastically and closed her bedroom door.

"I think something is wrong," Teddy said quietly. Hermione looked down at him and sighed.

"I think you're right." She paused, looking at the closed door. "Let's try to cheer her up and make the best dinner ever."

"Okay," Teddy agreed.

It was almost an hour later when Ginny finally came down. Her eyes looked puffy like she'd been crying. Hermione eyed her with concern as the redhead crossed the room in sweatpants and a high bun to get a glass of wine.

"Want some?" Ginny asked, noticing her gaze.

"No, I'm alright." She assured her friend. "Teddy helped me make dinner, want some?"

"Yeah!" Teddy beamed. He had on an apron and wore a bandana in his hair to keep it pushed back while he had helped out. Ginny managed a smile and nodded.

"Sure, what'd you make, darling?"

"We made stuffed shell pasta!" He grabbed a plate and carefully brought it to her on the bar. Ginny grabbed it and raised it to her nose.  
"Mmm! Smells great, thank you," She said and placed it down to tuck in. Teddy watched her eat, smiling all the time. "Did you eat already?" She asked him after a few bites.

"Mhmm! Aunt Hermione and I ate already while we waited for you. Will you tell us why you're sad now?" He asked softly, touching her arm. Ginny's fork stopped halfway to her mouth. She stared at the bite a moment before lowering it to her plate.

"I'm not sad," She said but the words didn't seem to stick their meaning.

Before Teddy could say anything more, there was a crack outside the door.

"That'll be Draco," Hermione muttered getting to her feet to open the door. He knocked twice before opening it himself right as she was about to grab the knob.

"Why in Merlin's name is the door unlocked, Hermione?" He sounded flustered. "I thought I told you to lock up while I was gone-?" He stopped himself when he noticed Ginny sitting at the island in the kitchen.

"Hey, Malfoy," She muttered. Her food had been completely abandoned at this point.

"Weasley! Home a little early, aren't you?" He broke into a grin and strode past Hermione to greet Ginny properly. He gave her a side hug, one arm draping over her shoulders, and looked around the room. "Where's Theo? He's not sick of you after one holiday together, is he?"

Ginny's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. Before they could fall, she stood abruptly, the chair scraping behind her knees as she hurried back up the stairs. A door slammed soon after and silence enveloped the house. Draco turned to Hermione.

"What happened?"

"Inquiring minds would like to know," She shrugged. "She came home a while ago looking completely wrecked. Teddy and I tried to cheer her up by cooking a special dinner but it seems food won't cure what ails her." Draco made a disgruntled noise.

"Nott... that idiot," He mumbled.

"We don't know what happened. Let's leave her for a bit and check on her when we get back."

"Get back from where?" Draco asked, feigning ignorance.

"Uncle George's shop!" Teddy bounced up and down on his heels.

"Oh... I mean, I wasn't sure if you still wanted to go or if you planned on staying here to cook some more... You don't look very ready to go anywhere," Draco said sarcastically, pointing at the apron and bandana Teddy still wore.

"No, no! I want to go!" The kid yelled out and started pulling his cooking attire off, the apron strings whipping around frantically.

"Go get a jacket," Hermione shooed him out of the kitchen and set up cleaning spells. She opened the oven and grabbed a warm plate of stuffed shells out she'd set aside for Draco. She turned to put it on the counter for him but stopped in her tracks.

The look Draco gave her was unlike any she'd seen before. His eyes, despite their normally steel-gray hue, seemed molten.

"Did you cook for me?" He asked softly, coming around the counter. She took a small step back, feeling a little too much like a deer being stalked by a wolf.

"Perhaps," She said just as softly. "But I cooked for everyone, honestly."

"Ah, so I'm not special then," He said flippantly. Hermione tried to swallow but her throat wasn't cooperating. "Too bad, I thought maybe you were showing off some of your domesticity for me."

"Why would I do that?" She asked uncertainly.

"Oh, I don't know," He was practically toe-to-toe with her now. He grabbed the plate from her and picked up the fork sitting atop. He popped a shell in his mouth whole and closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them to look at her again while he chewed quietly. "I think you were," He mentioned after he swallowed.

"Were what?" She asked, unable to stop looking at his mouth. Those lips had been on hers almost a full day ago. But hers tingled at the mere thought he might want to kiss her again.

"Don't look at me like that, Granger," He said sternly, causing her to look back up into his eyes. When she didn't answer right away, he smirked. It was his typical cocky grin she knew so well now. "Your eyes look like they want to start something they can't finish." He elaborated and then took a step back.

Hermione let a full breath of air in her lungs, unaware her breathing had been so shallow and ineffective before.

Something had shifted between Draco and herself. It was all his fault, really. Why did he go and kiss her? Why did he have to prove some ridiculous point? She was desperate to know. But it'd have to wait, for now. Teddy would come running out to them at any moment.

"We definitely have to talk later," She said quietly, trying not to put any sort of implication either way how she felt about it. She vied for neutrality. Draco was a natural flirt when it came to women. He'd proven that time and time again at school and with Ginny. For all she knew, he could have just been trying to flatter her into writing her book better. She didn't want to read too much into anything.

"Agreed. After my cousin goes to sleep tonight would be preferable." He said between bites.

He turned his back to her while he wolfed his dinner down. Hermione also turned away, steadying herself against the kitchen sink. She leaned heavily with both hands on the cold countertop. She took a deep breath through her nose, studying her reflection in the kitchen window. It was dusk outside, the moody clouds lingered in the early spring season.

Her brown hair hung in a long braid at her back, the frizz only barely contained. She hadn't thought to style it any special way, seeing as how she worked from home all day, but now she sort of wished she had. She found herself wondering if she should have tried to look a bit more put together for her outing this evening. As it was, she was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a soft cotton shirt that had long sleeves. She felt as she always did: plain. Whereas Draco always looked so beautiful and put together, even in sweatpants. It seemed completely unfair. And also a tad irrelevant.

Here she was, wishing she looked better because he did. Since when did it matter? She shook out the thoughts and made a decision to check on what was taking Teddy so long.

"I'll be back," She mumbled, brushing past Draco and heading to the guest room.

Teddy sat at the end of the bed, looking downcast.

"Hey, what's going on? Don't we have somewhere to be? Draco and I are waiting for you."

"I realized... I don't have any money with me," He looked up at her, seeming disappointed.

"Is that all?" She asked, smiling. "Put that jacket on. We're going."

"But-"

"Do you really think we'd make you pay your own way for things at age ten?" Draco asked, leaning on the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. "Come on, kid," He jerked his head, inclining they should leave. Teddy didn't say anything as he put his arms through the small black sweater. Hermione grabbed a scarf and peacoat next to the front door. Draco started chattering to Teddy next to the floo.

"Doesn't that godfather of yours buy you things? Or is he broke these days?"

"Draco!" Hermione chastised. Teddy chuckled.

"Of course Harry buys me things. I've just been brought up to not expect things of people," Teddy shrugged.

"Even your own family?"

"Well, you may be my cousin but I don't really know you well enough to consider you family..." Teddy said slowly, trying not to offend Draco.

"Well sure. But your Aunt Hermione-"

"Isn't really my Aunt, if you didn't already know," Teddy said matter-of-factly like it was the most normal thing to mention. Hermione halted in her steps towards them, a sharp pain filling her chest. Draco glanced at her, taking in her downcast expression.

"Listen, kid," Draco crouched down to be eye level with the young Lupin. "Family is more than blood. I should think you'd know that by now. Hermione," He pointed at her, making Teddy turn towards her. "She's the best. She may not be a blood relation but she's your family, you understand?"

"Yeah, of course, I do-"

"Well don't say something like that again. I think you hurt her feelings," He mentioned as he looked up at her with soft eyes. Teddy's wheels were turning a moment before he walked over to her and placed one of his small hands in her own.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Hermione." He apologized, his big brown eyes peeking up at her. She patted his cheek.

"No harm was done," She assured him but still felt the hurt in her chest. He'd said such a thing so casually. Is this how he really felt?

"Let's be off. The shop closes soon." Draco reminded them. She and Teddy nodded before grabbing floo powder and disappearing into green flames.


	19. Admissions

**Here's an extra long BONUS chapter for those who've stuck with this fic! It's full of all sorts of goodies so I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Who's waiting for the ship to sail?**

 **xoxox TheMissMegan**

"This is a surprise!" George exclaimed. Hermione, Teddy, and Draco floo'd in through the personal fireplace in the back of the shop. George had been grabbing some items to restock shelves when they arrived.

"Uncle George!" Teddy ran to him. George levitated the items he'd been holding and grabbed Teddy with his non-wand arm.

"Hey, kiddo! You come to check out the new merch?" George asked, waggling his eyebrows. Teddy released him and nodded.

"We thought we'd let him look around a bit." Hermione smiled.

"Grand idea, Aunt Hermione," George said and draped an arm around her. "Scoot on in, kiddo, Uncle Ron is out front," Teddy didn't need to be told a second time. He ran through the curtained doorway separating the back room from the shop as quick as lightning.

"How's Arthur?" Hermione asked, plucking levitating items out of the air to help George.

"Agitated to not be able to help but most of his injuries are healing fairly quickly-not that one-!" George grabbed an item out of her reach and gave her a mischevious smile. "It's a prototype and far too unstable for someone else to be handling."

"Then why was it in the restock load?" Draco asked.

"I was taking it out front to show Lee."

"How's he doing now that he's chained down?"

"He claims he's miserable not playing the field anymore but he's a liar." George chortled, making Draco follow suit.

"I didn't know Lee got married," Hermione stated.

"He eloped with some lad from Ireland a few weeks back. There wasn't any mention in the Prophet or anything." George shrugged and began heading to the front. Hermione and Draco followed close behind him. He showed her where to deposit the product she was carrying and they all headed to the purchasing counter where Ron and Lee were manning the registers. The shop wasn't too busy, being a Monday evening and all, but there were a few people milling about with handbaskets.

Ron caught Hermione's eye and scowled before turning away to make himself appear busy.

"What's that about?" Draco murmured in her ear. "I thought you two got on?" Hermione didn't know how to answer him properly so she simply shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly.

"Hey, guys!" Lee greeted. "I saw Teddy tear through here but I assumed Harry was with him,"

"Nope. He's all ours today," Draco said.

 _Ours?_

"Ah. Harry must be working a case then. Well take a look around and let me know if you need help with anything."

"Thanks. Oh, and congrats on your nuptials, Lee." Hermione said. He grinned.

"Thank you!" He beamed, obviously overjoyed.

"Wasn't sure you'd ever settle down, chap," Draco chuckled, shaking the wizard's hand. "The last I saw you two was when you first met at that club we all went to..."

Hermione stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked away to catch up with Teddy, feeling a tad left out. Draco lingered in front to continue his chatter with the boys as they reminisced.

It wasn't as if she and Lee were that close. So she shouldn't be feeling so out of the loop. People she went to school with were getting married and having kids all on their own. It was normal.

What really surprised her was how everyone she seemed to know and care about was somehow entwined with Draco. He'd changed so much over the years; it was easier for him to make and keep genuine friends nowadays. She was glad, of course, but it was still strange to have him so wrapped up in her world... especially after...

No.

She shook her head, not wanting to replay the kiss they'd shared. It appeared Draco had colored her world in rose-tinted glasses without her knowing it. Everything was coming up Draco. She needed to think things through clearly and not get so stuck on him.

She refocused and searched the aisles, meandering along and taking in all the peculiar things George had come up with over the years. She only came to the shop with the kids, which wasn't often. She rounded a corner to the potions section, unsure of why Teddy would have gone back this far when he knew he wasn't old enough to purchase them yet when she saw him talking to a tall, exotic looking man.

 _Latif._

Hermione drew her wand and quickly strode forward, stepping between them, effectively shielding Teddy with her body. The shelves weren't very far apart, which meant space was pretty cramped. Latif didn't look surprised to see her. In fact, he looked almost pleased when she stepped into the small area. He wore a sickening amount of aftershave, practically assaulting her senses. His hair was slicked back and the clothes he donned looked expensive; his suit tailored perfectly. His eyes bore into hers.

"We meet again-"

"Get away from my nephew!" She demanded, holding Teddy behind her.

"Aunt Hermione?"

"Hush," She instructed over her shoulder. Teddy didn't protest.

"Your nephew? I had no idea." Latif said.

"I doubt that." She retorted, glaring at him. He held up his hands in mock surrender.

"If you say so. We were just chatting, weren't we, boy?"

"Yeah-"

"Teddy," Hermione chastised the boy. "Go out front with everyone. Now." She commanded. He looked at her, uncertainty evident on his face, but did as he was told. He took off in a stark run.

"That wasn't very friendly," Latif said in a mocking tone after Teddy turned the corner.

"What were you saying to him?"

"Nothing, really, just going over some simple rules of thumb when it comes to potion making. I was browsing and he was being a curious little thing."

"In the future, you won't speak to him. Ever. Do I make myself clear?" Hermione warned.

"I'd be nicer to me if I were you," He said, a hint of his own warning in his tone.

"Please leave." She said firmly.

"Leave? Why? This is a public domain, is it not? And you are not the proprietor here if I'm not mistaken-"

"She's not. But I am." George's usually friendly voice held an unyielding edge to it. He stood at the end of the aisle, Teddy behind him, peeking around his middle. George leaned on a broom like he'd been sweeping.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley. I actually came to speak with you. Do you have a moment?" Latif asked.

"Not for you."

"I really must insist," Latif sounded as if he were running low on patience. His face still held a smile but it turned slowly into a grimace as he was denied a private audience with George.

"If it's that important, you can tell me in front of everyone." George shrugged, trying to sound indifferent. Latif paused for a brief moment, seemingly weighing his options, before plastering the grin on his face again and stepping away from Hermione to stand in front of George.

"Alright, then. I have been trying to get in touch with your brother. He's been evading me and I can't wait any longer."

"Which brother?" George asked.

"Charles."

"What could you possibly want with Charlie?" Hermione asked.

"I need to send him a message." Latif alluded, ignoring Hermione and speaking only to George.

"And that is?" George asked.

"He needs to back off." He said in a low, intense voice, staring George down. He didn't flinch but his eyes flicked momentarily over to Hermione.

Her brows were furrowed as she tried to think of a reason why Latif would say such a thing to Charlie of all people. But suddenly, something in her mind clicked. She blanched, covering her mouth in horror, the pieces of the puzzle coming together.

"It was you!" She hissed, pointing to Latif. He spared her a horrendous sneer before glancing back at George.

"I'll be going now. This shop is far too tacky for my liking, anyways," He said. He strolled past George and Teddy without another backward glance and the sound of him disapparating echoed through the store once he slipped out the door.

"George..." Hermione whispered. He gave her an agonizing look.

"I know," He said, but held his hand up to silence her as he glanced back at Teddy, who appeared equally confused and scared. "You alright, kiddo?" Teddy didn't respond. Hermione rushed to his side and crouched down in front of him, holding his face between her hands.

"What the bloody hell was Geraard doing leaving the store?" Draco growled as he came rushing over to the small group huddled together at the end of the aisle.

"Teddy think, what did he say to you?" Hermione asked, ignoring Draco.

"Nothing, really," Teddy said in a small voice.

"He had to have said _something_ to you. You were talking to him when I saw you together." Hermione insisted. Teddy tensed his shoulders, looking uncomfortable.

"He caught me..." He mumbled, averting his eyes.

"Caught you doing what?"

"I was looking through the high shelf potions..."

"What could you have possibly wanted from there?" George asked. The high shelf potions were reserved for the seventeen and older crowd. George and Fred had decided after opening the shop that they wanted to dabble in certain types of potions and brews that could not only prank, but cure ailments and apply temporary glamors and such. There was all manner of things that would do anything from color your hair to clearing up acne. The extreme nature and sensitive materials used were kept out of reach for a reason. Most of them were blood-charmed in a locked glass box so that only George or Ron could fetch it for people.

"I was curious about some of the potions. I know the incantation to unlock the box so I tried to unlock it but nothing happened..."

"You're underage, Teddy," George said factually, his arms crossing slowly over his torso.

"I know," Teddy mumbled, looking down at his feet. George never appeared this serious; he was always the fun-loving uncle who pranked and laughed with the children. Teddy could obviously feel the weight of his actions as George stared down at him.

"Extremely underage. No amount of accidental kid magic would ever unlock it, let alone anyone who's under seventeen. This was reckless and extremely irresponsible." George said in his scariest voice.

"It was just curiosity! I had no idea anyone would hear me or-"

"He heard the spell you tried to use?" Draco asked, looking at George warily.

"It won't work for him, even if he does know it. It's locked with blood magic." George reassured.

"So then what happened?" Hermione persisted, needing to know what that slimy man had said.

"He just asked if I should be up there. I said yes but he didn't believe me." Draco snorted.

"Naturally,"

"He just told me to mind myself or I'd get in trouble." Teddy finished. "That's when you saw us, Aunt Hermione." Hermione closed her eyes, taking in a breath to calm herself, and opened them again.

"Teddy. You know better than this. You don't _ever_ talk to someone you don't know! Not ever!" She scolded. Teddy's hair turned a sad shade of blue and his cheeks turned pink.

"I'm sorry," He said, looking downtrodden. Hermione pulled him in for a hug and held on tightly.

"You scared me." She said against his hair.

"I want to go home..." He mumbled, sounding close to tears. She nodded.

"Sure. Let's go back to my house-"

"No. My home. With Harry. I want to go home." He said sadly. Hermione pulled back and felt crushed. He'd never asked to go home while they spent time together. It hurt her heart to see him so scared and out of sorts. He should never have been caught up in this business with Latif.

"Okay um..." She paused to steady her voice. "I'll try to call Harry and see if he's done for the day," She got to her feet and felt the burn of tears prick in her eyes. She turned away and quickly headed out the front door to get air and make the call.

Once outside, she gulped in the evening air. The last thing Teddy needed was her blubbering. She took a few steadying breaths before fishing her phone from her pocket. She dialed Harry's number and it rang three times before he picked up.

"Hermione, hi. How's everything going?" He asked, sounding tired. His familiar, familial voice made the floodgates burst and she relayed everything to him in a rush.

"He insists on going home to be with you," She finished. Harry blew out an exasperated breath.

"I'm down the street, as luck would have it. Stay there." He said and the line went dead. She shoved the cell phone back in her pocket and tried to wipe the few tears she'd let slip from her face. She was sure to look a mess.

"Potter's on his way, then?" Draco asked quietly from the entrance to the shop. He had been leaning against the building while she'd made her call.

"Yes. How long have you been standing there?" She asked, sniffling, and refusing to look at him.

"Long enough to know how badly this upset you." He said, making no move to be nearer.

"Yes, well... I've never really been in this type of situation before."

"You used to go toe to toe with baddies all the time in school-"

"This isn't about Latif. Well, not fully." She crossed her arms over her torso, holding herself tightly. The street was deserted, people having gone home to be with their families and such. It made Hermione's chest pang.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Draco said. He walked down the two steps from the shop and stood next to her with his hands in his pockets. "I want to understand."

"Teddy." She said simply, shooting him a flippant glance and rolling her eyes. "I've tried so hard to be an important part of his life. Any time I get too close, I somehow get pushed to the side."

"You can't think like that. Him wanting to go home has nothing to do with him not wanting to be close to you. Any fool can see that kid loves you."

"He said so himself I wasn't really his blood tonight,"

"From what I've gathered, he's a pretty intellectual child. He was probably just stating a fact and not thinking of how saying something so factual could be hurtful. That's why I said what I did to him." Draco said. "His need to return home to Potter just speaks to how he views his Godfather, not how he doesn't love you."

"Maybe. I suppose I couldn't ever really know."

"You could try asking him."

"I can't go around begging my ten-year-old nephew to love me like a mother when he's made it abundantly clear, along with everyone else, that I have no real claim to him!" Her voice raised. Draco blanched.

"Is that what this was about?" He asked, looking concerned. His brows were knit together and his lips were set in a line. Hermione didn't say anything, fearing she'd said far too much already. "Hermione-"

"Hey," Harry's voice interrupted. Draco and Hermione turned to him in greeting. "Where is he?"

"Inside with George and Ron," Hermione mumbled. Harry sighed and touched her cheek briefly.

"You alright?"

"Of course. Go take your boy home." She said stronger than she felt, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"Good. I'll get a statement from George about the encounter with Geraard and then be off with Teddy. Do you want to come say goodbye?" He asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Better not. I gave him a good scolding about talking to strangers so I doubt he'll want to see me. Give him my farewells. I'm heading home." She said, barely able to look Harry in the eye. Her best friend gave her a tight smile and rubbed her arm up and down a couple times.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on him." He said genuinely.

"Any time. Goodnight," She turned quickly and strolled away a few paces. Draco linked her arm in his before she could get too far ahead of him and apparated them back home.

Their feet hit the grass on the front lawn a little too roughly. She swayed a bit but Draco kept a tight hold to steady her. They went inside the warm house that still faintly smelled of garlic from dinner earlier. Hermione shrugged off her jacket and hung it up. She then kicked off her shoes and beelined for the staircase. She felt out of sorts. The house had been so full of life with Teddy there. She could really feel his absence.

"Are you going to check on the she-Weasley?" Draco asked. Hermione paused with a foot on the first step and sighed.

"I suppose I should."

"Let me go with you," He offered. She didn't protest as he followed her up the stairs, past her room, and down the hallway. The door at the end was Ginny's and Hermione rapped on it twice and listened for a reply. When none came, she thought maybe she was sleeping.

"Gin? You awake?" Hermione asked. Still no response. She glanced at Draco over her shoulder and he shrugged, so she looked back and turned the knob to peek inside just to make sure the girl was alright. But once the door was open, no one appeared to be inside. Ginny's bed was still made, her suitcases that she'd taken to America were still packed and sitting in a pile at the end of the bed and on the floor.

"She left again?" Draco sounded as puzzled as she felt.

"Maybe to visit Arthur?" Hermione guessed out loud.

"At least we won't be interrupted."

"Interrupted?" Hermione turned towards him and Draco captured her face between his hands. "Draco-"

"Granger," Draco growled low. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Talk yourself out of this."

"I don't even know what this," She motioned between them. "is. We were supposed to actually _talk_." She said. Her cheeks began to flush at his proximity.

"Alright, then, talk." Draco's face was very close to her own. She grabbed his hands, lowering them away from herself, and walked around him to go into her room.

"Not like that." She said.

"Fine. We'll have a proper chat, then." He insisted as he followed her. She ignored him and made her way to her dresser. She opened the top drawer and pulled out pajamas. Then she went into the bathroom, closed the door and changed. She brushed her teeth and took off what little makeup she'd been wearing and washed her face. Ten minutes later, she re-entered the room to find Draco sitting at her work desk in front of the window.

"Are you done primping now?" He asked teasingly. Hermione nodded.

"I just needed to wash the day off."

"I can understand that," He said and stood up. He planted himself in front of her. She looked up at him and sighed audibly.

"Don't sound so put off, Granger."

"I'm not, really, just tired. And confused. The confusion probably exhausts me more than anything."

"Then let me ease it." He said and placed his hands on either side of her neck, thumbs brushing along her skin. He had a look about him. A small, playful smile and bright eyes. He appeared... happy. Like he had no cares in the world. "That kiss..."

"Was confusing." She revealed, averting her eyes.

"Just confusing?" He asked.

"Well..."

Hermione lowered his hands again and walked around him. She stared at the wall above her bed where so many school memories hung in the form of pictures and newspaper clippings. Draco wasn't that boy at Hogwarts anymore or the Deatheater he was turned into. He had proved himself trustworthy. He was her friend now. But... the memories of who he _had_ been still lingered in the back of her mind. The cruelty and the emotional torture burdened her, still, as much as she tried to squash it down.

"You tell me," She said after a moment. "what was that kiss supposed to be? Should I take it as some sort of tool to help me write how you need me to?"

"What? No, Granger!" Draco sounded appalled.

"Then how should I view it?" She finally turned to face him. "Because I'm having a little trouble interpreting it."

"You're seriously trying to break down the fundamentals of a kiss? Only _you_ would do something like that." He sighed and looked towards the window. He stared out into the night for a few minutes before he began to answer her. "Had it occurred to you that I kissed you simply because I felt like it?" He looked back at her slowly. Hermione shook her head.

"That thought never crossed my mind."

"It seems that brain of yours is incapable of leaving out any variable of a situation when figuring how to tackle things. I find it odd that you wouldn't entertain the thought of me wanting to-"

"I didn't let myself think for a moment that you'd even enjoy it." She revealed. His brows knit together.

"Why not?"

"We're friends now, that much is true. But we weren't always, Draco." She said softly, trying to be gentle. She knew enough about him these days to know how easily offended and hurt he often was by the things she'd bring up of his past. "My self-preservation runs deep." Her arms crossed over her chest subconsciously. Draco let her words sink in before going on.

"Hermione... I can't change who I used to be. But I have tried _very_ hard to be someone better."

"I know you have."

"Then why are you still punishing me for my past?"

"I'm not trying to. I'm merely being honest. I would never think in a hundred years you'd kiss me. Until a few weeks ago, I didn't even think you'd want anything to do with me, Draco. Can't you understand my hesitance to believe such a thing?" She asked, peaking up into his bright, gray eyes. She could almost see the cogs turning as he thought about what she was saying.

"That's fair. I suppose I'll have to reveal a few things to get you to understand my point of view." He said. "Because I did very much enjoy kissing you, Granger. It's all I've wanted to do since we were teenagers."

Hermione blinked twice, processing his words. The butterflies in her stomach were leading a full assault against her. Had Draco Malfoy just admitted to wanting to kiss her... since when they were back at Hogwarts? There was no way. She must have misheard...

"Maybe you should sit. You look about to faint, Granger." He pushed her back until her knees connected with the edge of her bed. They collapsed and she sat at the end, wringing her hands nervously. Draco knelt down in front of her.

"Say that again," She whispered. He cocked his head to one side, a pleased smile forming on his lips.

"Say what? That I enjoyed kissing you?" He chuckled. "Well it's true, I did."

"No the other part." She said a little louder. Draco looked a bit more nervous now and rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension before launching into his explanation.

"Do you remember when you'd study in the library all the time at school?" Hermione looked at him like it was obvious she did. "Of course you do... well... fourth year I started going to the library quite a lot, as well. I was noticing more and more how little in common I had with most of my friends. Back then, I was mainly running with Crabbe and Goyle and all they could speak about was the rising of the Dark Lord. Home was no different. I couldn't necessarily hang out in the Great Hall or Hogsmeade without people calling me names or bothering me. So I started hanging out in the library." He said.

"At first, it really bothered me that you and I would be there at the same times. But the more I went, I realized you were just there all the time during lunches, evenings and weekends, so it was merely a coincidence. Sometimes Potter and Weasley would pop in and you'd all be in deep discussion about something or other. I assumed after the Goblet of Fire fiasco that it had to have been about the tasks. But eventually, I noticed you had another visitor, someone who would talk to you all the time,"

"Viktor." Hermione volunteered.

"Exactly. It pissed me off because I had been trying to make friends with the Durmstrang's all year. I even bet on him to win the Tournament. He'd been blowing me off constantly and then I'd find him chatting you up in the bloody library!" Draco sounded mad but he was sort of laughing to himself as the thought humored him somehow. "The more I watched him flirt with you, the angrier I became."

"Jealousy is an awful emotion," Hermione said.

"It is. But it took me a while to realize I wasn't jealous of you. I was jealous of him."

Hermione inhaled quickly through her nose before blowing out a slow breath from her mouth. She tried to calm herself, not wanting to believe where this conversation was headed.

"What could you possibly be jealous of?" She asked slowly. Draco grinned.

"I found myself wanting to take you to that stupid Yule Ball. I wanted to be the one studying with you and laughing with you. It took me a long time to figure it out. Too long. And by the time I knew how I felt, it was far too late. You and I were on opposite sides of the war. I realized that as annoying as I used to find you, I no longer felt as such. I grew to find your intelligence alluring and your beauty only grew the older you got. When you spoke, it was with purpose. Nothing flippant or conceited came out of your mouth, which was so different from the girls who'd throw themselves at me.

"The picture you found in my book? I took it knowing I'd probably never get to see you again once school was over. I had no idea my Father would be arrested or that Voldemort would order me to kill Dumbledore. Everything was getting so out of control. But any time I'd lose my nerve or feel hopeless about my situation... I'd open up 'Pride and Prejudice' and look at that picture of you. You don't even know what a help you've been to me over the years, Hermione. And I thought..." He trailed off, unable to look at her. She thought he might not continue so she reached for him. He looked at their entwined hands and steadied his breathing.

"Go on," She urged. He squeezed their fingers together.

"I thought if I could just... witness you being happy from afar, that'd be enough for me. But everything changed when Charlotte showed me your writing. It was like getting to know you all over again. You were bright, witty, romantic..."

"You could have reentered my life at any time," Hermione said thickly, feeling like she'd cry from all the wonderful things he'd been revealing to her.

"No, I really couldn't." He said sadly, gazing up into her eyes. "Neither of us were ready. You were leading a happy life. I was leading a devastating one. Besides, we'd been enemies in school and the war had placed such a strain on both sides. If I were to randomly come calling on you for coffee, there'd be no chance you'd even talk to me. You'd probably hex me, thinking I was up to no good." He chuckled.

"You're probably right." She laughed, too, a tear sliding down her cheek. Draco caught it before it traveled too far.

"Please don't cry. My intention isn't to make you sad."

"You're not." She shook her head. "Please continue."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," She assured him. Draco nodded once and looked back down at their tangled fingers.

"I told Charlotte explicitly not to tell you I was the publisher looking at your book. And when Ginny found out, I begged her to be mum on the fact, as well. I wanted to give you as much time as possible so that when we met again, maybe we could be more than we had been. I kept saying to myself that just being your publisher was enough. But then I wanted to be your friend. And now-"

"Now?" Hermione urged, needing to hear the words. He was blushing profusely, something she'd yet to witness. His cheeks were red and blotchy, his breathing uneven.

"I'm being far too greedy. If you tell me right now that there's no possible way I could be someone important in your life, I'll go. You won't have to trifle with me again. I can simply correspond through mail about the finishing of your book or you can just deal with Charlotte." He said in a hurry, his words jumbling together like he already knew what she'd say and needed to get the embarrassment over with quickly. "But... if you feel anything for me," He pulled her other hand down so that both of them were trapped between his own as he stared at them. Hermione knew she must be blushing, as well. Her face felt warm like she'd catch fire.

When she thought about Draco, she'd frequently felt confused. She attributed this to the mental whiplash of his growth and change in her eyes. If he'd brought up any of this even a month ago, she'd have been in total disbelief and would have told him to shove off. In the short time that they'd been getting to know one another, though, he'd only ever been good to her, even when she wasn't so fun to be around. He'd wedged his way into her life with a significance she hadn't noticed. How had that happened? And now, here he was pouring his heart out and basically telling her that...

"I fancy you a great deal, Hermione. I don't simply want to be friends." He said. "I kissed you the other night because you were uttering nonsense about not knowing how to be properly intimate with someone. I knew it had to be a lie. But I also wanted to know for myself. I needed to make you believe otherwise."

"Okay, then," She said, her words cracking from the thickness built up in her throat. Draco looked up quickly, surprise coloring his features.

"Okay? Okay, what?" He asked.

"You can try to prove to me otherwise," She said and slowly climbed down off her bed. She pulled her hands out of his and wrapped her arms around his neck as she knelt in front of him on the floor. Draco didn't move a muscle as he sat on his tucked legs. His eyes studied hers, unable to fathom what she'd agreed to. She slowly leaned up and paused briefly, looking uncertainly at him, before letting her eyes flutter shut and closing the small space between them.

Their lips met softly. Hermione's nerves and Draco's disbelief had them playing it safe. He backed away and held her arms.

"Are you sure?" He asked huskily. "I don't want you to feel coerced or-" Hermione put a finger against his lips to quiet him.

"Shhh." She hushed. "You should know by now I don't do things so flippantly."

"I know, but... it's _us_. Think very hard about this, Granger." His gray eyes burned into her brown ones. "This changes everything." Hermione held his face between her hands and pecked him gently again before answering.

"I've thought of nothing else since you kissed me, Draco, try as I might to rid myself of the memory." She admitted. Draco gave her a shy smile.

"Really?" He asked. "After I did it, I thought you might give me a good smack."

"I might've if Ron hadn't interrupted." Hermione joked. Draco pursed his lips.

"He saw us, didn't he? Is that why he keeps looking at you like you're his least favorite person? And me like I might get a good hexing?"

"Yes," She answered truthfully. "He has a hard time forgetting the past, as well."

"What did you tell him?"

"That it was none of his concern. Especially because you and I hadn't spoken yet."

"Good. I'll talk with him." He said.

"About us? Why?" She asked. "I said it was none of his business."

"You're half right, love. But he's your family. They'll all know soon enough."

"What exactly will we tell people?" Hermione asked. She'd never really done labels with Viktor or Ron.

"What would you like to say?" He asked playfully, running his fingers down her arms, giving her goosebumps. She shivered at the contact.

"I'm not sure."

"Let's say Ginny asks why I'm in your bed tomorrow morning, for example-"

"She won't because you won't be in my bed in the morning!" Hermione laughed and shoved him lightly. Draco laughed and nodded.

"Alright but let's just say she does one of these days... what'll you tell her?"

"I don't know..."

"Come on, love, what'll you refer to me as?" He insisted, making her say it.

"I'd call you my b-boyfriend, I suppose..."

"Then there's your answer." He said, drawing her near again. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"You're infuriating when you want to be," She pretended to chastise him. He held her tight around her waist and ran his nose along her jaw.

"Darling, you have no idea." He kissed the pulse point on her neck and held her flush against himself. Hermione felt like her entire body would combust from the warmth he emitted. Her heart raced in her ears and she gripped him back tightly.

"Is this really happening?" She asked softly against his chest. She could hear the rumble of laughter in his chest.

"I can scarcely believe it, myself. I'm a happy man for the first time in so long," He admitted.

"I hope I won't be a disappointment to you." She said shakily. Draco squeezed her a bit tighter before pulling back and looking into her eyes.

"That's impossible."

"I just know you've dated quite a bit-"

"Not really. There were a few nasty rumors spread around after I broke up with Pansy but I've never dated anyone else seriously. Unless you count Astoria."

"Who?" Hermione tried to place the name. It sounded familiar but she couldn't quite remember.

"She's from a sacred twenty-eight family. Our parents decided when we were children that we'd be betrothed. To keep the blood _pure_ and all that." He said, rolling his eyes. "But I called it off ages ago."

"Oh."

"It's ancient history. She doesn't run in my circle of friends much anymore."

"Would that have anything to do with you calling off your engagement?" Hermione asked tentatively. Draco tensed a bit.

"A little, I guess. She and I were always just good friends. She wasn't too surprised when I ended things after the war."

"That's a relief," Hermione said quietly.

"It was for me. I didn't want to hurt her. Betrothals are common among pure-blooded wizarding families so we never expected much of anything when it came to relationships. You were lucky to be friends with someone you were set up with." Draco blew out a breath, seeming exasperated by the thought of it.

"How awful," she said. "I could only ever enter into marriage if I were in love. I can't imagine being thrown together with someone I didn't even _like_."

"It's taken me a while to feel the same. I was raised to just obey."

Hermione couldn't describe how that made her feel. He said it as if it were normal. He was never given a choice to be anything other than what he was. How cruel it must have been to be told what to believe, who to love, who you had to hate...

"But look how far you've come," Hermione smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "You decide your fate now, Draco Malfoy. No one else."

"What a grand statement." He said somewhat bitterly. "I'm afraid that's not always the case. There are quite a few things I can't control about my life. Malfoy Manor, for example, and everything that goes along with it."

"When is the auction?" She asked.

"Friday. It was pushed due to the Geraard situation but I've managed to keep it all organized during the chaos." He replied and stood up, pulling her along with him. "Listen, I have a question for you."

"Go ahead,"

"Well, this auction is just the tip of the iceberg this weekend. Afterward, whoever ends up purchasing the Manor will be throwing a ball. I know all of the parties' interested in it and they all want to throw it as sort of a commemoration for my family's lineage and time spent there. It'll be like a farewell for me, I suppose. These people will use any excuse to throw a party. Really, I suspect it's just a way to rub it in my face that I've failed as a Malfoy-"

"Draco, you're rambling," Hermione interrupted. "What's your question?"

"Saturday evening is when they're having the ball. Will you go with me?" He asked, a fierceness in his eyes. Hermione hesitated.

"Oh... I'm not sure." She said slowly. The thought made her feel very uneasy.

"I know these aren't your type of people. They're vile and I wouldn't even go if it weren't my bloody estate they're selling. I want you by my side." He held her hands tightly. "You make me strong."

How could she refuse when he put it like that?

"Can I think about it?" She offered. He smiled.

"Of course. Take your time. But not too much time. These sort of things do require a bit of forethought, after all."

"I can imagine."

"I don't really know if you could in this instance," He chuckled. "You think on it. I'm going down to snag some of those delicious leftovers and turn in."

"You're not going to attempt to trick me into letting you sleep in my bed?" Hermione teased. Draco had that classic Malfoy grin on his face like he was getting his way with something, and shook his head.

"I know you to be too respectable and clever to try anything like that, Granger." He said. "Unless you've had a change of heart in the last twenty minutes?"

"Of course not!" She said indignantly. Draco laughed loudly and pulled her into an embrace. She felt herself getting swept away in all the emotions of the evening. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but so wonderful.

"Goodnight, then, love," He murmured into her hair. She smiled.

"Goodnight, Draco." She replied. He lifted her face up to his and went in for another kiss. This time, they were on even footing, both knowing how they felt for one another. His soft lips kneaded her own in a steady rhythm for a moment before he pulled away slowly and gave her a final kiss on the cheek. With a shy smile, he exited her room. Hermione stood there as the minutes ticked by. She heard him descend the stairs and rummage around the kitchen before a soft click of his door signaled he'd gone to bed. Her hand rose up and she brushed her lips with the tips of her fingers.

He told her he wanted to be someone important to her.

He had said he liked kissing her and proved it by kissing her more.

Hermione sat down at her vanity and looked at her reflection. Her lips were slightly swollen and her cheeks were a soft shade of pink. Her eyes almost appeared to sparkle when she thought about how Draco held her with such gentle care. She looked and felt radiant.

It was official, she was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy.

Not a crazier thing had ever been thought about in her mind.

Nor a happier one, if she was honest with herself.


	20. Late Night Revelations

**Merry Christmas from me to all of you! I hope whatever holiday you celebrate, it's full of happiness and joy!**

"Hermione, wake up," Someone was shaking her. The feeling of grogginess was at the forefront of her mind. She felt completely knackered and wanted to be left alone. "Hermione? Hermione!" Someone grabbed her shoulder and shook vigorously. She tried to swat them away but failed miserably, still half-asleep.

"Hmmm..." She barely managed, peaking open her eyes. Her room was completely darkened except for the tip of a wand. Draco's handsome but concerned face floated above hers. That woke her up a bit more. "Draco? What-?"

"Come with me," He said, flinging her covers back. She recoiled, curling up from the cold.

"Hey!"

"Come on," He commanded and started trying to pull her to her feet. Hermione tried to shake the last dregs of sleep from her mind as she shoved her feet into slippers and let Draco pull her from the room. They hurried as fast as she could down the stairs and into the guest bathroom. The room was illuminated and a figure lay unconscious on the ground near the loo.

"Oh my god," Hermione brushed past Draco and knelt down. "Ginny?" She asked and sure enough, it was her. Hermione brushed her hair out of her face. She lay sideways, her limbs stretched around the loo. Hermione checked her pulse at the same time she could smell the alcohol. "She's passed out drunk!" Hermione hissed, feeling equal parts worried and pissed.

"I think she might have a slight case of alcohol poisoning," Draco said quietly. "I discovered her moments ago when I woke up to use the loo,"

"Thanks for waking me," Hermione said and lifted Ginny halfway off the floor. Her dead weight made her impossible to lift on her own, even though the girl couldn't weight more than 120 lbs at most.

"Here," Draco held out his arms and Hermione let him lift her best friend up to his chest; with ease, it seemed.

"Upstairs," Hermione muttered. Draco grunted in agreement and took the stairs slowly. Hermione followed after him until they reached the landing, then she slid around him to open Ginny's door. Ginny was deposited gently on the bed. She didn't stir or make much more than an incoherent groan. Hermione made sure to tilt her body sideways so she wouldn't choke on her own vomit if she threw up. Then she sat down next to her and brushed her hair from her face, sighing. "Oh, Gin..."

"I've been out to pubs and clubs with her too many times to count. In any of those instances, I've never seen her like this. The girl can hold her own." Draco muttered quietly as he dropped into an oversized chair near the nightstand.

"She must be in a lot of pain. I've only seen her like this one other time..."

"Just the once?"

"Yeah. After she and Harry broke up." Draco whistled low, shaking his head.

"Weasley is the real deal. If both Potter and Nott couldn't handle her, I'm not sure who can."

"We don't even know what happened," Hermione pointed out.

Ginny spoke up, her voice sounding small and pathetic. "Don't talk about me like that, Malfoy..." Draco and Hermione looked towards her at the same time.

"I was complimenting you, Weasley." Draco leaned forward to see her more properly, his arms resting on his knees.

"It's not a compliment to talk about a girl like she's a pureblood treasure trove."

"I did no such thing," Draco chuckled. "Just mentioned you're an alright bird."

"Mhmm," She didn't sound convinced. Her eyes opened into slits and regarded them sort of unfocused.

"Still sloshed?" Hermione asked Ginny in her most supportive way. The redhead closed her eyes again, seeming to think about it.

"Yeah. The room is spinning." She said and rolled onto her back. She groaned, sounding miserable, and flung an arm over her eyes.

"Why the hell did you get like this?" Draco asked. Ginny didn't respond. Hermione thought maybe she fell back asleep.

"Theo broke it off," Ginny said after a long silence. Hermione's breath blew out and she laid a hand on top of her friends that was resting on the bed.

"Why?" She asked. Ginny shook her head slightly.

"He thinks," She said thickly like she was starting to cry. "he thinks I'm still in l-love with Harry,"

"Are you?" Hermione asked. Ginny threw up her hands.

"How should I know?"

"You'd know," Draco said quietly. He glanced at Hermione knowingly and then set his eyes back on Ginny. "If you're this tore up, you have to still be in love with Potter, don't you?" Ginny turned to him and scowled.

"How would you know?" She threw at him. "You haven't had a decent relationship in years."

Draco looked down at his hands a moment before looking back up at her, nodding.

"You're right. I haven't. But I know what it's like to care deeply for someone. I can see that same look in your eyes." His eyes fell on Hermione again and she felt heat creep up her neck and into her face. Ginny sat up slowly, looking back and forth between the two.

"What the hell is going on?" She asked. Hermione pulled her gaze away.

"Hmm?" She asked.

"You two are being weird. You're not fighting and you keep looking at each other all funny," She pointed out. Hermione shook her head.

"It's a long story. And one you don't get to hear tonight. Get some rest." She insisted. Draco agreed and murmured _Aguamenti_ under his breath, filling the cup on the bedside table with water.

"Drink that," He instructed. "I'll brew you a pep-up potion for the morning."

"Yes, Healer Malfoy," Ginny said sarcastically and took a sip.

"The whole thing,"

"Fine," She growled and chugged the remainder of the contents. When she was all settled back into a laying position, Draco led Hermione from the room to let Ginny sleep it off.

"Well that was vaguely exciting," Hermione muttered sarcastically. Draco chuckled.

"If that's excitement for you then we need to remedy your idea of a good time," He said and gently pressed her up against the wall next to her bedroom doorway, not giving her a chance to protest before kissing her fervently. Hermione placed her hands against his chest, feeling the warmth he emitted beneath his shirt. It was strange; she'd always assumed back at school that his skin would feel cold to the touch to match his demeanor. But it was quite the opposite. Even his breath was warm. It blew softly on her lips and cheeks as he kissed her. His tongue prodded, silently asking permission to enter her mouth. She'd never been kissed this way before but she allowed it, opening her lips to give him access. He slipped his tongue in and it danced with hers. She wasn't quite sure what to do with her own so she let him lead. She must have been doing something right because he groaned quietly.

That sound ignited something within her that she hadn't felt before with anyone else. She couldn't put her finger on what the sensation was. She was pleased to be making him feel good but greedy to have him make that sound again. Her hands, seemingly of their own accord, snaked around his neck and fisted the little blonde hairs at the nape.

"Fuck, Granger," He whispered against her lips.

"S-sorry... did I hurt you?" She asked, uncertain of herself.

"A little but not in a bad way." He reassured and pressed his forehead to hers while he tried to get his breathing under control. "I liked it," He admitted, smiling devilishly. Hermione smiled, too, unable to look him in the eye.

"As I said, I've never really done this sort of thing before," she said.

"Surely you've kissed a bit," He assumed.

"Yes but... never like this," Draco looked pleased by her words and ran his hands up and down her sides, sending tingles through her whole body. She shivered and he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in his warm embrace. Hermione inhaled his minty scent and sighed. "Stay with me tonight?" Draco tensed.

"I'm excited to have all sorts of firsts with you but I wasn't expecting-"

"No, no! Not like that, I..." Hermione felt her face grow hot and she covered it with her hands. "I meant sleeping next to each other! Not, you know... _sleeping together_." Her words were muffled through her hands. Draco pried them away and she could see the smirk he wore.

"I'm only teasing. I knew what you meant." He said and held her hand steadfast as he pulled her into the bedroom. "I'll even behave myself by keeping all my clothes on." He promised.

"Don't you normally?" She asked. Draco closed the bedroom door and led her over to the bed.

"Underwear, mostly. But usually, if it's warm out, nothing." He shrugged. "It's more comfortable."

"Oh," Hermione shuffled nervously as they paused next to the bed.

"Relax, Hermione," He touched her face. "I want to take this all at your pace. I'm a patient man." The comment both relaxed and disappointed her. It was an odd mix of emotions. She liked how everything was going thus far, even if it had only been a few hours since they decided to be together, but she also found herself wanting him to be a little more... something. "Which side?"

"Hmm?"

"Which side of the bed do you want?" He asked. Hermione hadn't realized she'd been staring down at the bed. She looked back at Draco and smiled.

"I sort of starfish all over the place so you can choose," She smiled and shrugged.

"Starfish?" He chuckled, wondering what she could mean. Hermione pulled her hand from his grip and flung herself on the bed, spreading her arms and legs out wide, looking like a starfish in the sea. Draco laughed, smiling down at her. "I see what you mean, Granger. Scoot over, I'll sleep closest to the door." Hermione did as she was instructed and slithered into the covers. Draco lay down next to her, careful not to touch her at all, and pulled the covers over himself. It was quiet for a few moments before Hermione spoke up.

"Draco?"

"Yes, love?"

"Is this how we're going to sleep?"

"Well... I don't want to frighten you." He sounded a little nervous. She turned and propped herself on her elbow to look at him.

"How so?" She asked.

"I'm a man, Granger,"

"Well spotted." She teased. He didn't look at her, instead opting to stare at the ceiling, but she could see a smile playing on his lips.

"My point is that even though I respect you and can, indeed, be patient, my body doesn't necessarily want to obey these notions. I'm just... having a difficult time calming myself down." He blew out a long breath, closing his eyes.

Hermione knew enough about anatomy to know what he was referring to. And even though the thought did, indeed, make her nervous, she also didn't want him to feel embarrassed.

"Draco,"

"I'm okay with just this for now," He reassured her once more.

"Well, I'm not." She said. He turned to look at her, his brow furrowed. "I've invited you into my bed, Draco Malfoy, you better at least hold me as a thank you." She said coyly. He shook his head a bit and smiled.

"I want to-"

"Then please, do." She insisted. "I want you to be comfortable. You'll calm down, in time. We'll simply fall asleep. I'll do my best to ignore... that." She looked down his body. He looked genuinely surprised.

"Alright, then, c'mere, Granger," He muttered. Hermione scooted closer to him and he folded her into his arms. She tucked neatly into him like they were two perfectly shaped puzzle pieces, her head lay on his chest. Their arms and legs entwined and she did her best to avoid... _that_.

"Who would have thought?" She mused quietly out loud to the darkness.

"Hmm?" Draco wondered.

"I never would have guessed I'd be sleeping alongside Draco Malfoy." She said, her smile could be heard in her tone. Draco held her a bit tighter to his chest and sighed.

"I'll admit, I've imagined it a time or two but never thought it was possible." He said a tad bitterly. "I'm of the opinion I'll wake in the morning to it being a dream." Hermione leaned up and kissed his lips softly.

"If it is, it'll be a good one. But it's not. So go to sleep." She said and rested her head back on his chest. Draco didn't respond. He didn't need to. He squeezed her as if agreeing and relaxed into the bed. His breathing evened out and became a slow rhythm after a while, indicating he'd fallen asleep.

Hermione lay awake in his arms for a while, unable to turn her mind off.

It had been a long time since she'd shared a bed with anyone, let alone a man. When she and Ron were together, they barely stayed the night with one another. They'd gotten together during the war and didn't have much time for being intimate at all. Then he had Auror training while she'd taken her seventh year over and done extra courses for Ministry work. There weren't a lot of opportunities to spend the night together. When they did, though, it was a bit awkward. She could tell he'd been ready to take the next step in their relationship physically. But for her, it seemed unfathomable. And it was those nights that she'd really come to realize what a mistake it had been to start up any sort of relationship with him.

In her heart, she knew she must have over-romanticized how things might be getting together with Ron. They'd been friends for so long and knew way too much about each other for it to ever work. She'd found him handsome and funny, though, so she thought they'd really have a fighting chance; that maybe they'd overlooked their attraction to one another for too long and deserved to look into it. It had been a huge mistake, though, because it had put a strain on their friendship and she'd regretted it ever since. The awkwardness faded after a while but there was still a bit of an undercurrent that occurred when they were around each other.

She tried to act like she had before they were together; albeit, less bossy, knowing how much it irritated him. She simply wanted things to go back to how they used to be. It became very apparent that it wouldn't be that way; couldn't be. Ron was determined to make things as awkward as possible. Butting into her business with Draco really threw that into effect. On one hand, she could understand his hesitance and confusion. On the other, she felt like he was usually like this when she tried to date anyone that wasn't him. It was like he'd taken on some sort of unwanted role as her protector or older brother... and while she wished things could go back to that sort of platonic ease, she doubted he did it for that purpose. It was this thought that she'd carried in the back of her mind for years now. She hoped she was wrong; that she'd just been misinterpreting things.

Her ability to think hyper-logically led her to believe the worst based on his actions and the things he'd said to her over the years.

That didn't stop her from purposefully ignoring the signs, though.

Hermione turned over, willing herself to fall asleep. Draco reached out to her and held her body firmly to his own. His hand rested on her waist and his breath tickled her ear. Luckily, his male problem had subsided and she was able to relax and drift off without much more thought.


	21. Good Morning

**Happy New Year! Here's a baby chapter for you lot. A bigger one is on its' way!**

"Hermione, I'm far too hungover for this shit," Ginny complained.

Hermione had woken fairly early to an owl tapping on her bedroom window. She'd hurried over to it, untangling herself gently from Draco's still sleeping form, and opened the sliding glass. The owl stuck a foot out, allowing her to retrieve the letter. She didn't have any pellets for it so she gave it a head scratch instead. It flew away as she skimmed the letter from Kingsley.

It seemed he'd put her on home duty again. The blast had created much more of a mess than he'd originally thought and it was taking longer to put the department right again. He'd also revealed that her workload would be fairly lighter; a group of her colleagues had been cleared to get back to work after their questioning. That left her day pretty wide open.

So Hermione did the first thing she could think of. She quietly exited the room to let Draco sleep some more and ventured down the hall to wake up Ginny.

"It's not even seven in the morning, 'Mione. Let a witch get some rest."

"Nope. Not when I have a boy in my bed and need a chat with my best friend." Hermione hinted. Ginny sat up lightning-quick, regretting it instantly as she grabbed her head with a groan.

"Say what?" She hopped off the bed and tore down the hall. It was a slower pace than normal, given her hangover, but quicker than Hermione could've anticipated. She followed close behind her.

Ginny opened the door and tip-toed inside. When she got to the bed and spotted who was sleeping there, she turned to Hermione on her left and gawked.

"What. The. _Fuck_." She whispered, her eyes wide and her mouth upturned in a sly grin. "Someone's been _bad_ while I've been away!"

"Shhhh!" Hermione shushed her. "You'll wake him!" She stifled a giggle, swatting her friend as she tried to peak around the covers to gain any sort of glance at the man.

"Why does he have clothes on?" She asked, still whispering.

"Because we didn't... _you know._ "

"What?" Ginny asked out loud.

"Shhhhh!" Hermione loud whispered, attempting to cover Ginny's mouth. The two scuffled a moment before a male voice interrupted them.

"You two are about as subtle as a train," Draco grumbled, turning his head. Ginny laughed and plopped on the bed sideways, leaning her head in her hand.

"Mooooorning," She said coyly.

"I see someone is feeling much better," He said to her. She shrugged.

"Not really, I feel like shite... but..." She looked at Hermione, smirking at her blushing face. "I had to check in on the man in my best mates bed. Who'd have known leaving you two alone could end with such naughty results?"

"Shove off, Weasley," Draco muttered and flung the blanket over his face. Ginny laughed.

"Are you blushing, Malfoy!?" She ripped the quilt down and pointed, bouncing a little on the bed. "Merlin, you are!"

"Ginny," Hermione chastised but the tone was more teasing than anything. She sat down in the spot she'd slept and Draco laid his head in her lap.

"Morning," He said shyly.

"Morning back," She smiled down at him. His hair was stuck up in odd places and he had indentations in his skin from the fabric of the pillowcases. He was absolutely adorable in the morning.

"How did this happen?" Ginny asked, giving them a genuine smile. "Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled. Draco's had a hard-on for you since school-"

"Oi!" Draco threw a pillow at her face. She laughed loudly and used it to help prop herself up.

"So this is pretty recent, huh?" She asked. Hermione nodded and looked down at Draco's head in her lap. She rested her hand in the loose tendrils in the back. He closed his eyes briefly at the contact and looked back at Ginny.

"I asked her to be mine just last night," He admitted.

"Damn, you work quickly. Already in her bed..."

"Gin," Hermione giggled. Ginny held up a hand in surrender.

"Fine, but I want details later. I mean it!" She pointed at her. "No holding back because of your prudish ways."

"Of course not," Hermione promised. Draco gave her a faux affronted expression.

"You'd tell her all the personal inter-workings of our relationship?" His palm flew to his chest. "I'm hurt, Granger."

"Whatever, you guys are pretty boring so far," Ginny stood up a tad more slowly than she had earlier.

"Still feeling the booze, Gin?" Draco teased. She flipped him off and walked towards the door.

"I'm going back to bed." She proclaimed and left the room.

"Pep-up potion's in the kitchen!" Draco called after her. She changed directions and waved a thank you as she went in search of relief.

"Sorry about her," Hermione smiled down at him. He sat up and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Trust me, you never have to apologize for her behavior. I know her well enough by now to tell what she really means. Well, most of the time." He said and stood up to stretch out his limbs. "Damn, Granger, I slept so well last night."

"Even with the ginger interruption at two am?"

"Even with that." He said. "Your bed is divine."

"Good to know," She said and handed him the letter from the Ministry. "No going in today, either."

"Oh," Draco grabbed the letter from her and skimmed it. "I know what an annoyance this must be for you. I think it's for the best that he's having your department, namely, you, stay away from the Ministry for now."

"Draco, I need to work..."

"I get that you feel that way. I really do. So let's keep you busy another way. Come to work with me today?" He asked. Hermione pursed her lips.

"And do what?" She asked.

"Well you're one of our authors, are you not? Is it not still your desire to finish your book and become published?"

"You know it is-"

"Well come to work with me. Use Olympus to inspire you."

"Where would I write?"

"You could work at my desk," Draco suggested. "You've seen it yourself, it's enormous."

"Won't I be in your way? You should really focus on your job—"

"Hermione," Draco walked around the bed and grabbed her arms. "I'm hardly ever in my office most of the day. Besides, you could never be in my way," He said. He planted a warm kiss on her cheek and skimmed over it with the tip of his nose.

"You're too good at that," She muttered, her eyes fluttered closed.

"What's that?"

"Sweet talking me to get your way," she said. "It won't work."

"I think it already is..." He whispered in her ear, the little hairs being tickled by his breath. He took the opportunity to steal a kiss, pressing his lips against her own. She practically sighed out loud, feeling her resolve melt along with her body.

"Fine," She said against his mouth. He withdrew and gave her his best grin.

"Damn straight," He exclaimed and lightly smacked her butt before making a quick exit. Hermione stood there, feeling a tad tricked, but finding herself not minding it.

After all, she was his girlfriend now; she'd have to get more used to his trickery and sassy war methods. She could be just as sly as he. Slytherin's might be known for it, but Gryffindors could be better at it. After all, it was her nature to be bold and fearless. Even if she'd kept it under wraps for such a time, it was still there, clawing at the surface of her day to day life.

Hopefully, Draco would be ready for it when the time came.


	22. Bring Your Granger To Work Day

**Hullo, everyone! I'm so sorry about my hiatus! You know how busy life gets with work and responsibilities. But enough excuses! You want to read, right? Here's a longer chapter for those of you who've been patient up until now waiting for an update. And for any newcomers, welcome! This chapter delves a little into how things work at Olympus. I hope you enjoy :)**

 **-TheMissMegan**

"You look beautiful as ever," Draco said after they'd apparated in front of Olympus. It was raining hard, causing Hermione to use an umbrella charm so they wouldn't get too wet on the small walk. Draco's peacoat kept him warm but soon the rain would soak right through. He turned up his collar and smiled at her gratefully for the coverage, huddling close.

"Just my everyday attire," She said, looking down at the plum blouse and black skirt she wore. She'd even wore flats and a frumpy sweater. She wanted to be comfortable while she wrote.

"Well if this is how you look every day, I can't imagine what radiance you'll don at that Ball," He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I haven't said yes, yet."

"Yet. That's the word I'm holding on to," He said and opened the door for her. She strode in and rid herself of the invisible umbrella before readjusting her bag on her shoulder. Draco followed in after her and grabbed her hand as they walked over to the receptionist desk. The small move of domesticity made her heart flutter.

"Good morning, Poppy," Hermione cheerfully greeted the receptionist. The witch behind the desk smiled at her but it didn't quite reach her eyes like it normally did. She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder with what seemed like attitude.

"Miss Granger, hello."

"We'll need a pass for Miss Granger," Draco said curtly and the witch's attitude changed immediately.

"Of course, Mister Malfoy," She beamed at him and grabbed a pass from her desk drawer. She handed it to Hermione without looking at her. "Anything else I can do for you, sir?"

"There should be some wizards coming in from Iceland today. Are they confirmed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. That'll be all, then. Good day," He said and led Hermione over to the elevator.

She peeked back over the young witch who'd normally always been very friendly towards her. Thinking back to the last time she'd been here, she couldn't think of why Poppy would be treating her any differently.

"Don't let her bother you," Draco said, noticing her glance towards Poppy. "She's asked me out a few times. I always say no." Hermione looked up at him as they entered the elevator and smiled.

"It's not surprising, I suppose," she said. He pressed the button for the executive floor and looked down at her inquisitively.

"What's not?"

"Pretty ladies asking you out," Draco smirked and shook his head. The doors closed and he rounded on her, leaning a shoulder against the glass wall, his arms crossing over his chest.

"And why isn't that surprising, Granger?"

"Look at you, you're gorgeous. You know it. You flaunt it often enough..." She teased him. His eyebrows shot up and he pretended to ponder.

"Do I?" He asked. Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Don't pretend to be modest. You're a Malfoy for Merlin's sake. You know how to carry yourself. You've been prancing around looking the way you do for as long as I've known you."

"Prancing? Really, Granger, it's not nice to say such things about a man."

"It's what you do so I'll say what I like." She stated, adjusting her bag again. He took it from her and slid it to the ground before capturing her in a kiss. She smiled at the sudden act but drew back when the elevator dinged, signaling it coming to a stop. Draco pulled back, picked up her bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

"You and that smart mouth," He smiled, taking her hand. "It's going to get you in trouble." Hermione didn't comment. A few people boarded the lift, one nodding at Draco in a casual greeting.

A few stops later, the others had exited the lift and soon after Hermione was following Draco into his office. He set her bag on his desk and rotated his shoulder a couple of times.

"What the hell do you have in there?" He asked, eyeing the bag. Hermione opened the flap and he balked.

"Just a few things..." She said and started unpacking the bag that had her infamous undetectable extension charm cast on it. Inside of it was her laptop, of course, but also a large stack of books, several pens, and notebooks, a candle, some snacks, a small blanket...

"What is all that?" Draco asked.

"I need an environment when I write," Hermione said.

"This is a world-class publishing house... what could possibly make it better as a writing environment? We have whole floors dedicated to creative processes..."

"This lavender candle, of course." Hermione lit it with her wand and set it in the middle of his wide desk. Draco looked from her to the candle, then back to her again.

"You're nutters," He chuckled.

"I fully accept that assessment." She said and sat down in his chair. "I've always been a little intense with studying and such."

"Really? I had no clue." Draco said sarcastically and leaned towards her. "What sort of research materials did you bring along today?" He picked up a book that Hermione quickly panicked about and tried to snatch back from him.

"Draco, give it back," She stood and reached up on her tiptoes but he was a good foot taller than she was. He kept it out of her reach and read the title out loud as she flailed.

"Kama Sutra for Dummies?" He couldn't control his snickering. "Why do you have this?"

"I-I-"

Draco handed it to her as a distraction and quickly lunged for her bag. She grabbed the strap to pull it away from him and the bag dumped upside down on the floor. At least a dozen books that referenced sex, romance and relationships scattered across the ground. Hermione crouched down and immediately started gathering the books up in her arms. Draco snorted at how comical it looked and leaned down to help her.

"Don't." She said crossly. Draco hesitated but kept helping her. He stacked up everything on his desk and looked down at her, clutching a few of the books she'd grabbed to her chest.

"Why are you embarrassed?" He asked. Hermione shook her head.

"I'm not."

"Then what was this display?" He smiled down at her. She didn't say anything so he crouched back down and put a hand on her shoulder. "Research for the spots in your book we talked about?" He asked softly. She still didn't respond so he kissed her temple. "I have a meeting soon so I have to go. Sorry if I embarrassed you, it wasn't my intent. Please, use any books you need in my private collection for research if you need more than what you brought. I'm sure you'll find many of the volumes... instructive." He hesitated on the last word before standing up. He held out a hand to see if she'd accept help up. She couldn't look at him but took his hand.

"Thanks," She muttered. She quickly stepped back from him once she was on even footing and continued to look down at her feet. Draco sighed, shaking his head.

"Right, I'll see you later, then." He said and strode out of the room.

Hermione still clutched the books to her chest and tried to steady her breathing. Despite her best efforts to hide how inexperienced she actually was when it came to men, Draco still figured her out. He'd laughed at her choice of research materials. The logical part of her brain told her he wasn't laughing _at her_. But the other part took it to that place and there it stayed, festering away.

It wasn't like she'd planned on staying a virgin this long. At twenty-eight, she figured she would have done the deed much earlier. She never would have thought she'd be in this predicament.

As an aspiring romance novelist, she should be more well-versed in such things. She'd been so confident in her writing before, having already done an absorbent amount of research on the subject. She'd read about many authors in this genre being successful off of research alone. She thought: if they could do it, why couldn't she?

Draco had dashed that train of thought, though.

Her knowledge and aptitude for writing a love scene lacked realism. If she didn't get her act together and fix it, her novel wouldn't ever go to print or be successful.

She'd just have to study more thoroughly. Maybe ask some of her friends about their own sexual experiences...

"Well, well... I thought it was a joke when I heard your voice on the line," Charlotte's posh voice said from Draco's office doorway. Hermione looked up and smiled.

"Charlotte!" She'd called her up earlier to apologize and explain herself. And that's exactly what she did. Charlotte hung on her every word and accepted her apology far easier than Hermione felt she deserved.

"Water under the whatever, darling." She said. "I don't care much about _those_ sort of details, anyways. I've heard from a reputable source, which seems to be true if you being in this office is any indication, that you and Mister Draco Malfoy are somewhat of an item!" She lit her cigarette at the end of the long holder and inhaled, blowing a smoke ring in the shape of a heart towards Hermione. The brunette gawked, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously.

"Who told you that?"

"Someone with an inside scoop!"

"Ginny?" Hermione guessed. Now that she knew the two had been in cahoots this whole time, it was an easy guess. Charlotte flashed a smile and made an indifferent gesture with the hand holding her cigarette.

"Who can say?" She winked. She was so obvious. Hermione tried to hold back the smile that threatened to break out but couldn't. She covered her face in her hands, her elbows leaned on the edge of the desk. Charlotte hummed in approval. "You get him in the sack yet?"

" _Charlotte_!" Hermione gasped and the women combusted into giggles.

"I'll take that as a no!"

"Well, that's something I wanted to discuss, actually,"

"Your lack of di-"

"Charlotte," Hermione cut her off. "Some delicacy, please," Charlotte rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"There's not much to be said on this topic to make it sound more delicate, darling," She said but scooted her chair up flush against the desk to make the conversation more personal. "What do you want to know?"

"Draco eluded that my book lacked... passion," Hermione said and looked down at her folded hands. "You know me... you know how awkward and inexperienced I am."

"One night with your new stud could fix that-"

"Please, be serious," Hermione begged, looking Charlotte in the eyes. "I've done copious amounts of research and reading on the subject. I've been looking through every scrap of sexually educating material I have since I got here this morning."

"You've been reading books about sex... all morning?" Charlotte chuckled lightly, shaking her head.

"I have no choice. I need to make this book perfect." Hermione said. "It's my first mark in the writing community."

"Not true. You've written many things for the Prophet. But I understand where you're coming from." Charlotte stroked her chin, fidgeting with the end of her cigarette holder with her teeth. She thought a moment before leaning across the desk. "You're sure you don't want to learn by first-hand experience?" She asked seriously.

"Draco and I _just_ began our relationship. Yesterday. We're not ready for... _that_."

"Well, we can talk about my conquests, then. Your tart friend Ginny can help you in that respect as well," Charlotte said flippantly, putting out her cigarette and magicking it away. Hermione snorted. Ginny would blow a gasket over such a comment. "We have a lot of ground to cover. You'll have to come out for drinks. It's decided, let's go," She clapped her hands together and stood up.

"Whoa, I can't just go out for drinks. It's only noon!"

Charlotte straightened out her lime green pantsuit and held out her hand.

"Come on, darling, we'll just get mimosas. It's lunch hour."

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that," Draco's voice drawled. He strolled into the office, his suit jacket draped over his arm and his tie loosened. His hair was falling into his eyes, making him look a tad frazzled. He walked around the desk. grabbed Hermione's hands and effectively yanked her to her feet. He plopped down in his chair and tugged her backward, placing her in his lap. He looked exhausted so she didn't try to argue. Hermione stiffened, not used to such casual, affectionate gestures. She'd never sat in a man's lap before, either. It was odd. His knees were boney but as he made her lean back, she felt comfortable against his chest.

"Cozy," Charlotte shimmed her shoulders a little. "But I'm still not letting you have her for lunch. She's mine," She winked.

"I can't stay for lunch anyway. Just came to see how my girl was doing after our little sex book debacle this morning," He teased, wrapping his arms more firmly around her waist. She felt his body shake with silent laughter.

"Oh, this sounds juicy. Maybe we should stay," Charlotte teased, looking like she was going to sit back down.

"Nope, we're going to lunch, remember?" Hermione quickly shut down the suggestion and tried to stand up. Draco held her firmly in place.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" He asked softly in her ear. She shook her head, no, making the little hairs peeking out from her bun tickle his forehead. He pecked her on the cheek and released his arms so she could get up. "Good. Sorry I can't spend the lunch hour with you lovely ladies but my meeting turned fairly sour and I have some work to catch up on." He said, scrubbing a hand down his face. Hermione looked down at him, forgetting her embarrassment from earlier. She could see clearly how bad his day was so far by the stressed-out expression he had and how stiff his body was sitting in his chair. She ran the back of her fingers down one of his perfectly structured cheekbones and tilted her head slightly, marveling at how soft his skin was.

"You'll figure it out." She said firmly. His eyes flicked up to hers, contemplatively. "If you need any help, let me know." His lips upturned in a small smile for her and nodded. "I'll see you in a bit."

The ladies left him looking stoic and deep in thought.

Mimosas were definitely on Charlotte's agenda. The two had lunch at a small Italian restaurant where Charlotte knocked back at least four drinks. Each time she ordered another, she tried to convince Hermione to get one, too. She politely declined, opting for sparkling water instead. Hermione didn't have a problem with drinking. She often had a few with her friends when they'd all go to the pub or join Charlotte in a drink when she was dragged along for her escapades. But she considered it a working lunch.

Charlotte was extremely knowledgeable; even graphically so. She explained a lot in as much detail as she could. Hermione was taking notes but had a hard time looking at her friend in the eye; she was blushing profusely the entire time. When the waiter came over, it was obvious he'd heard their conversation. He gave Charlotte a few flirty looks and spoke to her in terrible, broken Italian... completely oblivious to the fact that the publisher was fluent in the language. It didn't seem to bother her, though. She flirted back for his efforts and batted her pristine lashes at him.

As the ladies walked back into Olympus, they were chatting and laughing about one of Charlotte's many conquests when Poppy cleared her throat to get their attention.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's stomach took a nosedive, remembering her conversation with Draco earlier.

"I'm running late for the Editor meeting, darling," Charlotte mentioned as she continued towards the lifts.

"Go on ahead, then. Thanks for lunch!" She smiled joyfully at Charlotte. "It was very... educational." Charlotte winked at her before the doors closed. Hermione walked to the desk and smiled down at Poppy. Poppy stood and leaned in closely.

"Mister Malfoy has a private message for you," She informed her. "He wants you to meet him in writing room five,"

"A writing room?" Hermione asked.

"Number five, yes." Poppy reiterated.

"Did he say why?"

"I'm not really made privy of many personal details,"

"Ah, well, thank you. Floor number... three?" Hermione had only been shown the writing floor once by Charlotte after she first agreed to try to publish her work. It was a floor dedicated to authors in the process of working on things being championed by Olympus. As an aspiring author herself, it was an available place for her to write or find inspiration. She'd never used it, though, preferring her own makeshift office space at home.

"Yes, ma'am," Poppy replied. Hermione relayed her gratitude and went on her way.

She couldn't shake the feeling of oddity that came over her as she stepped out onto the third floor. When she visited Olympus, she always just went from the lobby to Charlotte's office. She never really ventured around too much. Draco's office had felt intimidating to her earlier. But on the third floor? It was more like copious amounts of cubicles in a library, which comforted her slightly. Each room was soundproof, charm proof and equipped with a spell that would allow you to ask for anything you'd ever want or need for your time there. Research materials, snacks, music, ambiance, you name it, the cubicle would bring it to you. They each had their own doors with a small window to see if it was occupied or not.

Hermione started scanning the room numbers as she walked slowly down the hallway. There were doors lining both sides. Even numbers on one side and odds on the other. She looked into the few rooms leading up to room five and only saw a couple of people occupying them.

When she looked into the window of room five, she saw Draco in there sitting down on a chair. Only, he wasn't alone. Sitting atop the small work desk was a woman. She was turned away from Hermione, leaning down towards Draco. Her brown hair flowed down her shoulders and back in waves of chestnut perfection. She wore a flowy skirt, a tight blouse and black pumps that accentuated her beautiful legs. She said something that made Draco smile and chuckle a bit. He replied something which made her laugh, too. She threw her head back and touched his shoulder.

Hermione was not a jealous person.

Viktor Krum had an endless slew of female admirers but it never bothered her.

Ron dated Lavender back at school at the epitome of her realization of the feelings she held for him. It hurt her feelings to see him with someone else but she had never been jealous of Lavender, only disgusted at their constant display of affection.

At this moment, though... she knew jealousy was exactly what she was feeling.

What could she do, though? He'd asked her to come here, right? Maybe it was a friend of his he wanted to introduce her to? The moment looked too intimate, though. It made her feel like an intruder. She couldn't just hover out in the hall, though...

Hermione hesitated a moment more before rapping on the door twice. Draco looked up, half smiling and half surprised. The woman turned towards the door with a megawatt smile until she caught sight of who it was. Her smile fell as recognition struck. Draco stood and opened the door.

"Hermione!" He said excitedly like he hadn't seen her in years. "Back from lunch, love?" He asked, checking a pocket watch. "Charlotte kept you out a bit late. Did she make the meeting?"

"Um..." Hermione shrugged. "She said that's where she was headed."

"That woman is going to make me gray before I'm thirty," He joked. Hermione tried to smile but her face felt strange. It didn't want to obey simple functions. She looked down at the paper bag she was carrying. Draco followed her gaze. "What's that?"

"Well... you said you had to skip lunch," She handed the bag to him. She ordered lunch for him while she was out, unsure of when he'd get to eat. It was a nice, girlfriend-like thing to do, she thought, and also wanted to make it up to him for how weirdly she'd acted that morning. Draco took the bag, opened the flap and inhaled the garlic notes of the pasta she'd picked out.

"You brought me lunch?" He looked up at her, an affectionate expression spread across his face.

"How sweet," The woman said from behind him. She hopped down off the desk and stood next to Draco. "Too bad we ate already," She shrugged.

"Oh, Hermione, this is Astoria," He gestured to the woman in question and Hermione's mind clicked into hyperdrive.

"It's nice to meet you," Hermione held out a hand and Astoria took it demurely, barely touching her.

"Likewise," She replied. "Draco, we should get going," she said.

"Wait," He raised his eyebrows. "Was there something you needed, love?" He asked Hermione. She didn't know how to reply. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. She looked from Draco to Astoria.

"I was told you wanted me to meet you here," She said finally. Draco's brows furrowed a little.

"When will Olympus fire that Poppy girl already?" Astoria laughed humorlessly. Draco rolled his eyes, obviously realizing what had happened.

"Meddlesome woman," He blew out a breath. "She knew I was up here, heard Astoria popped in and thought to lead you up here like you'd catch us in some sort of awful position. What a joke,"

"She did these sort of things before, too," Astoria eluded to Hermione. "She's mates with the security guards,"

"I'm sorry," Draco said to Hermione.

"You don't need to apologize to her, Dray... Poppy needs to. She owes every female you come into contact with a personal apology for how she treats them. Myself included. The girl needs to take a hint. You shot her down... multiple times. It's desperate and embarrassing." Astoria said.

"Regardless, she wasted precious writing time," He said and grabbed Hermione's hand. "It's childish. She's childish." He kissed the top of her hand. "Sorry," He mumbled against it. Hermione shrugged.

"I think I'll head home-"

"No, please, my next meeting will only last an hour, tops. Go back to my office, use the dirty details I know Charlotte provided you with to work. I'll be up there soon," He pleaded. Hermione hesitated, her gaze flicking to Astoria, unsure.

"I suppose I could hang out a little longer," she said.

"Yes! Okay, see you soon, love," Draco kissed her on the cheek and passed by her into the hallway. "Come on, Astoria, we'll be late. Can't set a bad example and have Charlotte giving me a hard time the next time she decides not to waltz into work till noon."

"Yes, dear," Astoria said facetiously and walked alongside him. Hermione stood motionless as they chattered away waiting for the elevator and then loaded in when it came. Draco waved at her as the doors shut.

A fish out of water was the best way she could describe how she felt. It was cliché and terrible way to think about it but it couldn't be helped.

Draco's life was much different and came with a lot more baggage than she'd first anticipated. That was saying something, considering he was an ex-Death Eater.

Draco did come back an hour later as promised, but only to relay he had way more to do than he'd anticipated and wouldn't be coming back to the office for some time. Hermione debated staying but in the end, opted to head back home. Olympus proved way too distracting to get any real work done, it seemed. She said her goodbyes to Draco and went on her way.

Passing by the reception area, she saw Poppy still sitting there, working quietly to herself. Hermione walked over to her desk and dropped the guest pass in front of her. Poppy looked up, feigning surprise and a fake smile, and muttered a small 'thanks.'

"Thank you for relaying Draco's message earlier, by the way," Hermione piped up, feeling a moment of bravado. "It was lovely to meet up with him and Astoria. He's been meaning to introduce us." She lied. Poppy was unable to hide her surprise or her embarrassed blush.

"Oh, of course," The girl said.

"I'll see you next time," Hermione smiled widely and strode out of the building. Once outside, she took a deep inhale of the fresh, moist air and blew out a long breath. She let the small sprinkles of rain fall on her face for a moment while she collected herself. Being a Gryffindor had its advantages at times; it made her act more bravely than she felt. Her little comment towards Poppy would, to anyone else, look polite. But to her, and she assumed Poppy as well, it would be considered a small, back-handed slight. She wanted Poppy to know that she hadn't shaken her, even if it wasn't true. Despite her involvement with Draco being the culprit of such treatment, she wouldn't allow anyone to make her feel the least bit intimidated.


	23. Figuring Out Your Mind

After the War, Hermione found her bravery wavered in certain situations. She'd have panic attacks and hide away like a hermit. It's part of why Harry started having her see a Mind Healer. He knew she needed an outlet to talk things through. The Healer diagnosed her with something called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Or PTSD for short. It meant that the events that led up to and took place during the War had lasting effects on her psyche. The Healer said it could lessen, with time and different therapeutic things they could try, but that it could affect her for the remainder of her life.

Hermione wasn't about to see a Healer until her dying day so she started canceling appointments left and right until she no longer scheduled any at all. Her Healer mentioned what could happen if she missed too many and didn't implement her own source of outlet in her life to deal with the PTSD, but Hermione hadn't quite believed her. She'd always counted on her own mind to figure things out and solve her own problems. But it seemed this wasn't something intelligence or cleverness alone could solve.

It had been almost a year since she'd made an appointment with the Healer, Madame LeBlanc, but she felt the need for a session. Recent events had caused somewhat of a strange pattern in the attacks and bouts of bravery she felt. It was erratic and she couldn't figure it out on her own.

Hermione apparated home and made a mental note to contact Madame LeBlanc the first moment she could get away. But she knew a certain ginger was waiting for her inside to spill all the details of her new relationship. And inquiring minds couldn't be denied.

She let herself in the small home and shrugged off her jacket and shoes. Her nyloned feet slid smoothly across the hardwood floors as she went to the kitchen to start a pot of tea. The house was quiet again. Hermione wondered if maybe Ginny were out day-drinking once more. She hoped not. Ginny was already in too much pain as it was.

She filled the kettle and clicked on the gas stovetop before setting it atop the burner. While she waited for a whistle to alert a boil, she meandered up to Ginny's room. Knocking softly twice, she let herself in when she heard an indistinct groan.

"Hello, friend," Hermione said quietly. She walked through the darkened room and loomed over Ginny's lumpy form huddled under the blankets on her bed. "I'm making tea. It's time to get up."

"Not today, Herms."

"Don't call me Herms. And you better get up right now or I'll be forced to open your curtains. We both know you hate that." Hermione threatened and waited for a response.

"Joke's on you, _Herms_ because I magicked those bitches closed ages ago." Ginny retorted. Hermione sighed audibly, her hands at her hips, and shook her head.

"You think a sticking charm will deter me?" She asked. Ginny didn't respond for a moment, seeming to weigh her options.

"I'll be down in a few minutes. Let me clean up... it's not pretty under here."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Hermione said. Ginny whipped the blankets back and Hermione gasped. Ginny's eyes were swollen, dark bags forming underneath. Her hair was tied up in what looked like a birds' nest on top of her head. Her cheeks were pink and splotchy. She wore a baggy Hollyhead Harpie's t-shirt and sweatpants; the bad pair with the holes in them. It was a sight to behold. Hermione reigned in her surprise and lifted her chin an inch.

"Five minutes. Or next time I come up here it'll be with a bucket of water." She held up a hand, her fingers twiddling to accentuate her five-minute point, and headed back down to the now-whistling kettle.

Ginny was down a few minutes later in an ice-blue oversized fuzzy sweater and a pair of leggings. She sat down on the couch without a word to Hermione, who simply handed her a soothing mug of earl gray tea.

"So you told me what Theo thinks. Tell me what your take on all of this is." Hermione cut to the chase. She hated seeing her friend this way. It killed her. Besides, they hadn't had girl time in what felt like ages.

"Ugh, I don't want to talk about this!" Ginny bit out. "And I wish this was whiskey instead of tea!"

"Alchohol is what started this mess," Hermione stated. "When Harry got tossed at that party and laid into Pansy. It won't solve anything. Talking will."

"That's rich, coming from the girl who's been avoiding her Mind Healer for the last ten months."

"I called and made an appointment, actually," Hermione said, taking a sip of her tea. It was a bit hot so she walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge for a spot of milk.

"You're kidding!" Ginny turned towards her. "What led to that?"

"A lot of things but we're talking about you." Hermione poured a little milk into her tea and put the carton back in the fridge.

"I'm scared, 'Mione," Ginny said. Hermione joined her back on the couch and they cuddled in on opposite sides, sharing the throw that they kept there.

"Scared of what?" Hermione asked, lighting the fireplace with her wand and then setting it down while she sipped her tea.

"Draco said I would know... _should_ know if I still loved Harry or not. I've been going through it in my head for hours."

"And?"

"I'm afraid he might be right. Theo, I mean. And Draco, too, I suppose." Ginny held her mug but her tea was left untouched. She stared into the cup like a lifeline. Hermione wasn't sure she'd continue until she said something rather remarkable.

"He's who I think of when I play Quidditch. When something important happens, I want to call and talk with him about it. When I wake up in the morning sometimes, I'll still think I'm back at Grimmauld Place. I've loved Harry since I was eleven years old, 'Mione." Ginny looked up at her over her mug and shrugged a shoulder. "He's the one. I've known it for quite some time."

"Go to him, Gin."

"I can't. Too much has happened. Too much time has flown by. I left him and that... _beautiful boy_... when they needed me most. And for what? A silly game of Quidditch?" Ginny rolled her eyes as a tear cascaded down her cheek. She swiped it away quickly and cast her eyes towards the fire. "I don't deserve them,"

"Ginny, if you only knew how untrue that was! Harry still loves you!" Hermione said. "Did you know he keeps up with your career? I've seen the pile of newspaper clippings. Any time you're in the Prophet, he saves the pictures and articles..." Ginny looked a tad hopeful for half a second but then shook her head as if she thought the better of it.

"He'll never forgive me for being so selfish. Not really,"

"You won't know until you take a risk."

"Look who's getting her bravery back," Ginny gestured towards Hermione with her cup. "Draco seems to be rubbing off on you." Hermione sighed.

"I don't know if it's him exactly." She said. "But I meant what I said... Harry loves you. You need to reach out."

"I don't want to hurt Theo, though," Ginny mumbled. "The past year with him has been amazing, like a breath of fresh air. It's been fun and romantic. We laugh all the time. I'm sad to think of the fallout from this."

"I think he's hurting, either way, Gin." Ginny looked at her with a wary expression but nodded.

"I suppose you're right."

"Write a letter to Harry," Hermione suggested.

"Oh no, I... it's too soon." Ginny furiously shook her head.

"I didn't mean you had to send it today but... just write out how you're feeling. When you're ready, you can send it."

"Okay." She agreed. "Maybe later, though. I want to hear everything that's been going on here!" Ginny quickly changed the subject. Hermione smiled but a tinge of sadness lingered behind it as she launched into all the sordid details from the last couple of weeks. Everything from her fight with Draco to the explosion at the Ministry, to the entire Latif situation, and all about Draco kissing her and how they decided to be together. Ginny clung to every word, drinking in the drama. When Hermione mentioned Draco's estate business and how he'd invited her to the ball that was being held there, Ginny squealed in excitement.

"It's not like I'm going," Hermione stated.

"And why not? It's a chance to dress up and go out with your new _boyfriend_." Ginny embellished the last word in a sing-songy voice and waggled her eyebrows.

"It's being held at Malfoy Manor, Gin. I'm sure I mentioned that."

"But nowhere near that drawing room, 'Mione. From what Theo's said of the place, the ballroom is on the other side of the house."

"These people that will be there-"

"Listen to yourself, Hermione. ' _These people_ '? Yes, they'll be from the Sacred Twenty-eight families but who all does that entail?" Ginny asked. Hermione thought a moment, going over every single family she could think of, then came to a realization. Ginny raised her wand. "Accio invite!" She said clearly. A moment later, a pretty envelope that had loopy, neat script spelling out her name landed on her lap. "The Weasley's, despite getting labeled blood-traitors by Voldemort's supporters, are always invited to these soirees."

"How did I not know about this?" Hermione asked, feeling a bit surprised.

"We never go because of how most of the pureblood families treat us along with our friends and family. It's our way of silently protesting, I suppose. But! I would definitely go if I were persuaded by a dear friend," Ginny held out the invite and Hermione took it, pulling out the small card with a personally written invite addressed to _Ginevra Molly Weasley_.

"Did Draco put you up to this?" Hermione narrowed her eyes, not putting it past him or Ginny to try something along those lines.

"I haven't even seen him since you left this morning," Ginny said. "And even if he did ask me to convince you, so what? He obviously needs the emotional support or he wouldn't have asked you to go. He knows how you feel about that house, especially after what you told me happened with that Latif guy..."

"You think so?" Hermione asked.

"Try to see how hard this is going to be for him. He's becoming more of a disgrace to the purebloods as time goes on. As someone who's been considered practically royalty up until the last few years, it's a big change for him."

"From what he says, he's already accepted it."

"This is different," Ginny assured. "Malfoy Manor is the oldest pureblood manor house. He grew up there. As did his father, grandfather and every Malfoy boy and girl for centuries. It's about pride. And despite all the bad things that happened there, it was home to him and it's his responsibility. What a weight it must be for him to have to sell it."

"I don't come from a big family so... I suppose it's difficult for me to understand. But when you put it that way, how could I refuse him?" Hermione said sadly.

"You shouldn't. But that's just my opinion." Ginny took a swig of her tea. Hermione chewed on her lip as she thought about it.

On the one hand, it might be way more difficult this time around to go back and face that house. But on the other, Ginny was right; Draco needed support right now. And he had no family left. No one to stand by his side.

Except her.

Could she brave the pureblood wolves for a night to be his strength, though?

Of course. In a heartbeat. Draco had shown her more kindness and patience than she gave him credit for. It was time for her to do the same and show him her support.

"It's this weekend..." Hermione said out loud.

"Mhmm," Ginny responded obviously.

"I literally have nothing to wear to something like this,"

"You're best friends with a pureblooded shopaholic, darling. That won't be an issue." Ginny winked and Hermione shook her head.

"Merlin, I don't want to do this!"

"Sometimes we do things we don't want due to a nagging best friend. Suck it up, buttercup!" Ginny said and laughed at Hermione's sour expression.

"You really can be a bitch sometimes, Gin."

"It's a ginger thing. But you love me!" She smiled cheesily and Hermione laughed, too.

...

"You've been fidgeting all night. Tell me what's wrong," Draco said. Hermione set her book down, having reread the same sentence at least six times. He was right. She'd been fidgety and unfocused since her encounter with Astoria at Olympus, and her decision to go to the ball only made her feel that much worse. She wasn't sure how to broach the subject, though.

"I'm feeling somewhat... out of sorts," Hermione said, furrowing her brows together. "I'm not entirely sure how to speak with you."

"You can talk to me in any way you like," Draco said factually. "You've never had any qualms about speaking your mind before."

"It's different." She said. Draco set down a manuscript he'd been editing. She'd been reading in bed while he worked at the desk in her room. He'd been busy as a bee all day and the work seemed to continue well after he'd come back to the house. He worked through dinner but asked if he could continue in her room as she read, wanting to be near her even if they couldn't spend much time together. She'd agreed, of course, but she was unable to stop her mind from overanalyzing and nitpicking every detail from their first day together as a couple.

"The only thing that's different is that we're not hiding our feelings for one another anymore. We should be able to trust each other enough to talk about things." Draco said. He got up from the desk and sat on the edge of the bed near her. She sat at the head, propped against a pillow. She looked down at the book she'd been reading and played with the corner of the bookmark. Draco placed a hand over hers and smiled when she looked back up at him.

"I made a decision." She said. "About the ball,"

Draco's face was impassive a moment before he looked back down at their hands and nodded slightly. "You aren't going, then?" He asked. "It's okay. I understand completely." His disappointment was thick even though his words said something else. He stood but Hermione immediately flipped the comforter back and stood, too, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing the side of her face against his back as he turned from her.

"No, you daft man! I'm going!" She rushed out. Draco stiffened, pausing his movements, and then visibly relaxed. His back muscles unclenched and he turned in her arms until they were face to face.

"You are?" He asked.

"Yes! Why did you assume otherwise?"

"Your tone and expression," He brushed his thumb on her cheek. "You looked as if you were about to let me down."

"No, I-" Draco stopped her words with a soft kiss. Her eyes closed briefly then opened as he ended the kiss to hug her to him.

"This makes me so happy. Thank you, Granger."

"There's more," she said. He took a step back.

"What's that?"

"It might be why I looked a certain way. I have a question,"

"Ask it." He urged. Hermione took a deep breath and made direct eye contact.

"Will Astoria be there? At the ball?"

"Of course." He said. Hermione sighed.

"I thought so."

"There's that face again. Tell me what you're thinking, Hermione."

"Why was she at Olympus today?" She asked.

"Didn't I mention? Her family owns a portion of the shares for Olympus. She's the family's representative. She attends all the big important meetings."

"Nope. Didn't mention that." Hermione said flatly. Draco studied her a moment before smiling.

"Hermione Granger..." He mused. "Is that jealousy I detect?"

"Not jealousy, per se," She argued. "You two just seemed awful... familiar... with one another earlier."

"We've known each other since we were kids. A bit of familiarity is expected. Plus we were betrothed as I said. Honestly, you have nothing to worry about." He grinned like a fool. "But I will mention that seeing you this way is rather amusing. And a little flattering."

"Flattering?" Hermione asked.

"Well, yeah. I suppose it proves you care."

"Is it not already obvious?" She asked.

"Yes but... it's nice just the same." He teased and kissed her again.

Hermione felt slightly better. The anxiety she'd been feeling ebbed away slowly and she felt herself relax into his embrace.

"I'm very grateful you'll be attending the ball with me," He murmured as they parted. He ran a hand down her brown locks and twisted a tendril around his index finger. "We could go shopping for it if you'd like?"

"Ginny already has that covered," Hermione mentioned. His eyebrows raised a fraction.

"That's good. How is she?"

"Coming to terms, I think." She replied. "I think she and Theo are through."

"That's a shame," He said and began to look downcast.

"I'm sorry. I know he's your friend,"

"My best mate," Draco corrected. "I really liked having her be part of our circle."

"She still can be. Just... not in that way."

"Maybe,"

"Hey," She got his attention and he looked at her neutrally. "Things work out how they're meant to. I'm sure it'll all be okay in the end. It's not for us to jump to any conclusions." She pecked his cheek and he nodded. She leaned back into the pillows to read. He sat down, too, but not at the desk. He slid in next to her in the bed and rested his head on her lap.

"I promise I'll go down to my own room in a bit. I just want to be here with you a bit longer," He said, wrapping an arm around her. She helped pull the covers over him, suspecting he wouldn't make it back down to his room, and settled into her book while he dozed off.


	24. Just Like Hogwarts All Over Again

**Oh my goodness! I had no clue simply fixing the character pairings section could lead to such a following! Thank you all so so so much for all the kind words of encouragement and the lovely reviews. I'm having a lot of fun with this story. I hope to answer all of your questions soon. Enjoy! xoxox**

"I told you, she's asleep! I can have her stop by in the morning!"

"This can't wait, Ginny."

"Don't just barge in there!"

The door to Hermione's room suddenly burst open, startling her awake. It seemed she had drifted off to sleep not long after Draco laid down. He was still laying next to her, wrapped around her like ivy. He jumped awake, too, grabbing his wand with an impressive speed from the bedside table and pointing it to the open door. The only light on in the room was the lamp by her bedside so it was a bit too dim to make out who was standing in the dark hallway.

"Bloody hell," Ron cursed. Hermione squinted, sitting up.

"What's going on?" She asked. Draco came to his senses and lowered his wand, obviously deeming Ron as no type of threat.

"That's what we'd like to know!" Ron demanded, striding into the room. Ginny was hot on his heels, followed by Harry. Draco stood up, stretched his limbs, and yawned loudly.

"Is there a reason why you're all here at," He checked the time. "midnight?" he asked.

"We need to speak to Hermione. It's urgent." Harry implored.

"I think we need to address this," Ron pointed at the bed. "first! What the hell is going on here?" Hermione ignored him by getting up and striding over to Harry.

"Is everything alright? Teddy-?"

"He's fine. So is everyone else. This is Auror business having to do with the dragon case." He said.

"I thought we were making sure she stayed far away from that," Draco said.

"We were. We are." Harry began. "Sort of... but... there's been a development. We need your help, Hermione."

"She's not an Auror!" Draco pointed out. "You figure it out, Potter-"

"This is none of your business, ferret!" Ron hissed.

"Last I checked, you're not an Auror anymore, Weasley. So technically, it's not yours, either." Draco retorted.

"Enough!" Ginny yelled.

"We're all somehow invested in this. Just spit out what's so important you had to barge in here in the middle of the night!" Hermione implored.

"Everything is gone," Harry said, sounding slightly out of breath. "All of the evidence; the Ministry paperwork, the court files, everything on the DVF has vanished."

"What about the grounds? The Dragons?" Hermione asked in a hushed tone.

"Missing," Harry said. "The grounds were devoid of anything useful when we went back."

"How could dozens of dragons just go missing? How could all that evidence just vanish?" Ginny asked.

"We don't know," Harry shrugged. "We've exhausted every single lead we've come across. Coming here is a last-ditch effort to see if Hermione could somehow use that brain of hers to figure something out."

"This is just like Hogwarts all over again." Ginny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "You can't figure something out so you make Hermione do it,"

"That's not what this is!" Ron said.

"And why are you even here, Ron? Draco's right, you're not an Auror anymore." Ginny added gently, trying to diffuse the tension.

"I've been thinking about rejoining if you must know. I'm to shadow Harry and make sure my skills are still up to snuff." Ron said.

"Brunt is allowing that?" Hermione asked.

"Auror Certifications never expire," Ron revealed. "The training is continuous so Harry just has to make sure I'm still competent and brush me up on new and existing protocols."

"That's nice and all but I don't see why you two need Hermione for this," Draco said crossly. "You have a whole law enforcement division at your disposal. I'm sure there are plenty of smart, capable witches and wizards who could figure it out."

"You're not wrong. But Hermione knows the ins and outs of this case like the back of her hand. It was hers, to begin with. She may have some clue that we've overlooked or haven't thought about and time is of the essence." Harry said and turned to her. "Please Hermione, I know you're scared but if you could just look at-"

"I wouldn't say that," She said firmly. Draco turned to her and grabbed her hand. She peaked up at him and shrugged at his imploring expression. "What? I'm not. I'm just as curious and confused as the others. I'll go down, look through anything they have and see where it goes."

"Thanks, Hermione. It'll be a real help." Ron said.

"I don't want you near this," Draco stated, squeezing her hand. "The people involved in this blew up the Ministry!"

"I can't just sit back and do nothing. Harry's right, I may be the best person to figure out how this happened."

"Besides, it really doesn't have anything to do with you." Ron said to Draco.

"Everything involving her has to do with me," Draco rounded on Ron, practically in his face. Ron looked like he wanted to back down but pride prevented him.

"Should you all whip out what makes you lot men and measure to see who's the winner or can we just calm down and talk about what matters?" Ginny asked as the tension grew.

"Maybe if they could just... _explain_ what the hell is happening-" Ron started slowly.

"It's obvious, Ron, they're together!" Ginny threw her hands up in frustration at her brothers' lack of cleverness.

"Together?" Ron had a stupid look on his face.

"Yes," Hermione said. Ron went from white to beet-red in a matter of seconds.

"Together, like..."

"Going steady, in a relationship, etcetera. Whatever label you'd like to slap on it, that's what they are." Ginny finished for him.

"No. No way," Ron sputtered, rounding on Hermione. "I thought we talked about you staying away from him-"

"I only recall letting you know it wasn't any of your business," Hermione said firmly. "We have more important things to attend to right now,"

"She's right. Let's go," Harry said.

"I'm coming with you," Draco said.

"Like hell you are!" Ron argued.

"Just Hermione and I will go. Ron, you need to go home for the night. Malfoy you need to stay here as well. We won't be gone too long I don't think," Harry said. When Ron and Draco looked like they were about to protest, Ginny whipped out her wand and gave them a threatening glare.

"Boys," She warned. "I wouldn't." Ron huffed and instantly apparated away. Draco sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed in defeat. She strode over to him and pecked him on the forehead.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," She promised. He grabbed her hand, planted a kiss on top of it and squeezed.

"Be safe, love." He said, accepting defeat. She nodded.

Harry and Hermione could be heard disapparating downstairs a few moments later. There was no way Draco could sleep when he knew she would be out doing possibly dangerous tasks. He sat down at her desk and went back to work on the small pile of manuscripts he'd brought home from work.

...

Hermione felt beat.

It was almost seven in the morning. Any scrap of a lead the Auror Division had about the dragon case only led to dead ends. She'd gone over and over everything a dozen or more times. At four, Kingsley came in and chatted a bit about a few possibilities but left quickly to go deal with Minister of Magic affairs. At six, Brunt showed up with coffee and pastry for everyone who'd pulled an all-nighter. Besides Harry, there were four other Auror's on the task force assigned to the case. When Brunt saw Hermione, he patted her back a couple of times and handed her a cup of coffee.

"Not sure if I should drink that," she said. "I really want to go home and pass out."

"Ah, well, I don't blame ya," He said. "You're not used to these all night shifts."

"I'd be more alert but sleep has been rough to come by the last couple of weeks." She said. She rubbed her eyes and tried looking at the piece of paper she was going over. Brunt pulled it out of her hands and shook his head.

"Go home, Granger. You've earned some shuteye."

"If I could just go over it one more time-"

"You've been at it for hours. You all have. Take the day off." He called out to everyone else in the conference room.

"I haven't even been told if I get to come back to work today or not," Hermione said. "If I do, I'll just have to come right back,"

"Kingsley didn't tell you?" Brunt asked.

"Tell me what?"

"Your Department is shut down until further notice," Harry said.

"What? Why?" She demanded.

"We're having a hard time collecting evidence. They want as few people in there as possible. Only a small group, including yourself, have even been cleared to work at all. Anyone who has is expected to resume duties from your own homes."

"Kingsley made it seem like most of the department was up and running, not only a small group. And as for business as usual... I don't have any open cases or anything to do unless someone needs licensing for something or other. I don't get requests that often. What do they expect me to do?" Hermione asked.

"Do the work that comes to you and take a much-needed rest, I suppose. You did say you've been having trouble sleeping," Brunt mentioned. Hermione looked down at the cup of coffee he'd handed her. She set it down on the long table and shook her head.

"Don't look so down," Harry said. "We're grateful you came down here and helped all you could."

"If you need anything else, please let me know." Hermione requested. She wanted to feel useful.

"We might just take you up on that," Brunt assured.

...

Feeling useless and completely knackered, Hermione entered her home and made the seemingly long trek up to her room. She expected Draco was probably getting ready for work by now but she hadn't expected him to still be in her room.

She stood in her doorway staring at his back. He was hunched over her desk working.

"Draco?" She said quietly, not wanting to startle him or wake Ginny. He turned around and gave her a relieved look.

"Granger... come here," He requested. She slid off her shoes and padded over to him.

Up close, she could see the dark circles forming under his eyes. His lids drooped and his hair was in disarray. He was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. She looked beyond him, to the desk, and saw a pot of coffee and a mug.

"Have you been up all night?" She asked, resting her hands on the tops of his shoulders. He grabbed her waist and leaned his forehead against her stomach. The intimate contact sent a bit of a jumpy feeling through her abdomen.

"Mhmm," He mumbled. "I was waiting for you."

"I didn't mean to be gone so long,"

"Were you able to help out at least?" He asked, lifting his head up to look at her. She shook her head.

"No." her disappointment evident in her tone.

"I see," He muttered and blew out a breath. "I need to shower and get ready for work."

"You've barely slept. You sure you should be going in?" Hermione ran a hand through his hair and tucked a bit behind his ear, loving how soft it felt. He closed his eyes, relishing her touch, before standing up and pulling her flush against himself.

"I have to go, sorry love." He said.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to make you stay up waiting for me."

"It was my choice. I'm just glad you're home safe." He said. She smiled up at him.

"Well, thank you for worrying. It's been a while since anyone's been concerned with my whereabouts." She chuckled. Draco's lips turned up into a small smile. He grabbed her face with both hands and captured her in a long, steady kiss.

This one was different than before. It was tender; some deeper feeling poured out from him. Hermione could feel it down to her toes, the kiss was that good. It lingered on another moment before he pulled away.

"You should sleep." He said. "I'll come to say goodbye before I leave." He promised. She nodded and stared longingly at her bed.

"Okay," She agreed. "I can make up for your lack of sleep tonight if you'd like?" She suggested innocently. Draco cocked his head to one side and a full out grin appeared on his face, his thoughts not appearing so innocent.

"Hmmm... tempting, Granger." He said sleepily. "How so?"

"I was thinking I could make you dinner. This time it'd be intentionally just for you." She said, feeling a blush creep up on her face at his saucy expression. Draco's smile grew and he nodded in approval.

"It's a date," He promised and left the room.

Hermione hugged herself a moment, basking in the small moments of bliss with Draco. How could she feel so happy and comfortable with him after such a short time? She wasn't quite sure how to answer her own question but didn't feel like dwelling on it. She was in a happy relationship for the first time in ages. It felt wonderful.

She tucked into bed and yawned, staring up at her ceiling as she drifted off, thinking about Draco and how right things seemed to feel between them.

A little while later, she'd been completely asleep when Draco came back in. He barely woke her long enough to say his farewells and give her a kiss goodbye. Hermione hummed out a small, "Have a good day at work," to which Draco smiled curiously at such a small phrase of sweet communication. He hadn't felt so happy in years. He pecked her once more on the cheek before making his way back out of the room and down the stairs to leave.

"She's sleeping?" Ginny asked him from her seat on the couch. She'd woken to get coffee while he'd been showering.

"Yes," He said. "I wish I could be sleeping next to her. She looks so peaceful."

"If only," Ginny said whimsically. "For the record, I sort of convinced her into this whole ball thing."

"I presumed you helped with that. Thanks."

"I think you two are good for each other. You haven't been around her long enough lately to know what a difference your friendship and now your relationship does for her." Ginny said and took a long pull of coffee.

"It's her who's made a difference for me," He said as he packed his bag. "I'm surprised she even agreed to take up with me."

"As am I, to be perfectly honest. But Hermione has always been very headstrong; she thinks everything through in every way possible before making decisions. Trust me when I say that her choosing you wasn't lighthearted or spontaneous. Or convenient because you happened to like her, for that matter, in case you ever thought such a thing. She's choosing you for her own reasons." Ginny said seriously. "So don't fuck it up. That girl has been through enough."

"Is this the best friend pep talk I read about in books? Are you warning me to be nice or you'll hex me?" Draco said jokingly. Ginny lowered her mug and looked at him intently.

"I won't need a wand for what I'll do to you if you hurt her in any fashion,"

Draco paused what he was doing and returned her intensity.

"I promise, that'll never be necessary." He swore. Ginny stared at him another beat before raising her cup to her lips and taking another drink.

"Good. I'll take her shopping for the ball later after she's slept a while. Leave everything to me." She said more light-heartedly. Draco nodded and grabbed some floo powder from the mantle. He bid her farewell and was off to work.

Ginny sat on the couch sipping her coffee and contemplating her conversation with Draco. They'd been friends long enough for her to know his tells if he was lying. He'd seemed sincere in his promise. She hoped he was able to keep it.

She decided to let Hermione sleep until noon. That would give them lots of time to shop at all the places she'd made appointments at and still be back in time for the date she heard the couple set when she was still in her room upstairs. She needed to be gone this evening to give them privacy but wasn't sure what to do to pass her time.

At that moment, Ginny made a rash decision. She just hoped it wouldn't backfire.


	25. What a gown this will be!

"I think the green would do nicely," The sales clerk said.

"I liked it but the blue is so much more elegant. What do you think, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

They were in the fourth shop already and it was only three in the afternoon. Hermione knew Ginny loved to shop but the girl had it down to a science.

"I think I need more caffeine," Hermione said from where she was standing on a small pedestal in front of several mirrors. She was wearing a seafoam-green floor-length dress in velvet. It was beautiful, but not really her color. Besides, colors had so much meaning in the British wizarding world. Everyone associated them with something or other and usually, Hogwarts houses were somehow involved. It was exhausting. She'd found a little black dress at the first store that she'd liked but Ginny had vetoed it completely, stating it wasn't formal enough.

"Okay. Let's take a break. We can come back if need be." Ginny said. Hermione nodded and fled back into the dressing room.

Moments later the two were meandering down the street looking for a cafe Ginny liked to frequent.

"Did you love any of the dresses so far?"

"Sorry Gin, no," Hermione said. Ginny linked their arms together.

"We'll find it, don't worry. Ah, there's the cafe!" Ginny pointed to a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that reminded Hermione of the French bistros she'd been to while on vacations with her parents growing up. Her heart panged terribly as she was thought of them and the fate she'd subjected them to. She shoved that feeling down as the girls entered the shop and placed their orders.

"We have appointments at two more places. I saved my favorite for last."

"I see. So you expected me to be picky?" Hermione asked, tucking into her scone.

"I know you." Ginny laughed. "You've only been to a few formal functions but nothing quite this grand. I counted on your nervs getting the better of you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, everything has to be perfect. This isn't just some dance. It's a pureblood, sacred twenty-eight event. Press will be there as well as every rich bitch in Britain. This will also be a big deal for you, specifically."

"Me? This is supposed to be about Draco,"

"You two are an official item now. This event will be your first real outing together where it won't just be speculation. Your picture will be taken. You'll be asked loads of questions-"

"Whoa whoa whoa... I don't think-"

"You're going to have to come to terms with it. I can help you as much as I can to prepare but once we're at the event, you'll have to rely on Draco and your own intellect to get you through." Ginny said. She added some sugar to her coffee and stirred it around with wandless magic. Hermione felt a bit of panic creep up her back.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she said. Ginny placed a hand over hers on the table.

"You'll be fine. I'll make sure of it. Let's finish our pastries and go to the next shop." Hermione nodded in agreement but didn't feel as confident as Ginny sounded.

...

The next shop was a bust but the last shop produced hopeful contenders.

Ginny found the dress she wanted to wear almost instantly. They'd walked two steps into the shop when Ginny pointed out a green ball gown on a mannequin and insisted that she try it on. A few moments later, Ginny walked out of the dressing room looking like royalty.

"Gin! It's the one!" Hermione smiled big, fawning over the perfection of Ginny Weasley. The skirt was wide, stacked with taffeta and crinoline. The bodice was strapless, lacing tightly in the back for a corset affect. The dress had an ivy design that had small sparkling white stones here and there. The leaves started around her bust and seemed to float down into a single stem with leaves down her right side ending just past her waist. It was like art. She'd be the belle of the ball in that dress. What a way to make her first impression at a pureblood soiree than to beat out everyone else for best dressed. No one would besmirch the Weasley name with such a beauty in their midst.

"I'll take it!" Ginny said to the sales clerk who'd waited patiently for her to try on and come out.

"Delightful!" The clerk gushed. It was sure to be a large commission for her.

While Ginny changed, Hermione wandered around the store. There were so many beautiful gowns it was hard to pick one. A different clerk walked with her for a while, pointing out all sorts of gorgeous dresses Hermione might like to try. Nothing really called out to her yet, though. She let the clerk know she'd call on her if she needed assistance.

It was a pretty big store, with loads of dresses for every sort of occasion. Hermione felt a little overwhelmed and went to the back to check out the clearance racks.

That's when she saw it.

Hanging on a 'final sale' rack was a floor-length gold dress. Hermione walked over to it and ran her fingers over the material. It was silk and smooth to the touch.

"Hey Gin," Hermione called through the store. She picked up the hanger the dress was on and marched it through the store. Ginny was chatting up her clerk about shoes when she turned and gawked at the dress in Hermione's hands. "Well?"

"Go try it." Ginny said excitedly. Hermione grinned and did as she was told.

She went into the dressing room, changed out of her clothes and slid the smooth dress over her thin frame. Hermione had never been very curvy or, in her opinion, appealing in the slightest when it came to her own body. She'd always felt average. But as the dress smoothed out over her features and pooled at her feet, she felt a strange sense of confidence. The neckline dipped slightly in front and the thick, silk straps held everything perfectly in place, crisscrossing at her back. She brushed her palms against the material on her thighs and loved how the fabric felt. It was buttery and had zero imperfections. She could hardly believe she'd found it on a sale rack.

"Get out here!" Ginny commanded. Hermione opened the door and walked out, holding up the front a little so she wouldn't trip. Ginny gasped and the sales clerks looked on in approval as Hermione stood in front of a tri-fold mirror and smiled.

"This is it," Hermione said. "I feel so... so..."

"You're absolutely radiant! Like the sun!" Ginny squealed. "That color of gold suits you perfectly. It's dark enough to bring out the honey highlights in your hair but light enough to give you a glow! And with the right shoes, we won't need to hem it!"

"That's what I was thinking," Hermione said. "It's not too long at all."

"How much?" Ginny asked.

"I didn't look at the tag but it was on the sale rack." She replied. Ginny gushed.

"How perfect is that?" Ginny reached over and held up the price tag in the back. "Not bad,"

"How much?" Hermione asked.

"It's a little over 200 galleons-"

"200!?" Hermione gasped. "This is supposed to be on sale!"

"That _is_ a sale for this place," Ginny shrugged. The clerks nodded together. Hermione's anxiety flared up. There'd be no way she could afford it. Why did Ginny have to bring her to such an expensive place? She knew the kind of salary Hermione made at the Ministry...

"I'll get it for you. My treat for convincing you to go." Ginny offered.

"No. I couldn't let you do that. I'll go to some muggle stores or something..."

"Please, Hermione?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Draco will be in a designer suit. You can't show up in a no-name dress-"

"Draco Malfoy?" One of the clerks asked.

Ginny and Hermione turned to her. Hermione half expected her to make some sort of judgy comment.

"Yeah," Hermione said hesitantly. The clerk smiled knowingly.

"Wait here just a moment." She instructed and walked off towards the front of the store. Hermione and Ginny exchanged strange looks before Hermione ultimately decided to go change back into her own clothing. Once she returned, she handed the dress to the other clerk who was chatting with Ginny.

"Sorry I suppose I'll have to pass." She said glumly. The clerk shook her head.

"I'm not so sure," The other clerk rejoined the group and handed Hermione a note.

"I received this by owl this morning. It states that should you find a dress you can't live without, and money ends up being an issue, Mr. Malfoy will attend to the cost." She said excitedly. Hermione blanched.

"How—what—this doesn't make sense!" She sputtered and then whispered to Ginny. "He's supposed to be hard up,"

"I just got done ringing this dress up with the financial information he gave me. You're all set to go once we get this dress all wrapped up!"

"This has to be some mistake," Hermione shook her head. Ginny elbowed her.

"He's a sly one, isn't he?"

"How would he even know we'd be coming here?"

"I did mention we were going shopping today," Ginny said. Hermione rounded on her. She held up her hands in defense at the brunettes agitation. "What? I can't help it if he knows my taste in clothing shops."

"Return this dress, please," Hermione begged the clerk. "I'll just give Draco his money back-"

"All clearance sales are final. Sorry," The clerk said.

Hermione stood motionless in the store a moment before the clerk holding the gold dress smiled tightly and offered to wrap it up. Ginny nodded and the lady flitted away, the other clerk on her heels.

"I don't know whether to be angry or-"

"Extremely pleased and flattered that he'd want to do this for you?" Ginny finished. Hermione stared at her a beat and nodded once.

"I'm also worried," Hermione said. "He's been living at our house because he hasn't the money for his own. Yet he can afford to be extravagant with something so frivolous?"

"He's spent hardly any money since he's been at the house, though, if you haven't noticed. Just chips in by coming home with groceries sometimes." Ginny mentioned. "I'm sure he has some reasonable explanation. I wouldn't be too concerned about it, though. He wouldn't have offered unless he knew he could afford it."

"I suppose..."

"I'm serious, Hermione, drop it. You might make him feel bad by bringing it up."

"Okay, fine," Hermione replied bitterly but in the back of her mind, knew she wouldn't be able to. "Let's just grab the dresses and go. I still have to shop for dinner tonight."

"Ah yes, I heard you two making plans. What are you going to make?" Ginny asked as they made their way up to the front of the shop.

"I'm not sure. Draco and I haven't discussed mundane topics like our favorite foods yet. Thankfully he doesn't seem too picky," Ginny pursed her lips in thought and released them with a small _pop_.

"Listen, being his friend for so long has its benefits. I know things. Things like his favorite meal, for example..." Ginny revealed. "I could steer you in the right direction if you'd like?"

"That'd be such a huge help, Gin. I was going to go to the market and wing it and you know how terrible that would have gone." Hermione said.

"Indeed," Ginny agreed. "Hermione Granger never met a shopping list she didn't like."

"I'm not that bad!"

"If only that were true." Ginny joked. The clerks handed them pristinely wrapped boxes with satin bows and the girls were on their way.

...

 **For those of you not current on wizard to muggle currency conversions, 200 galleons roughly translates to almost a thousand dollars US and a little over six hundred pounds UK. Next chapter will be an important one! Draco and Hermione are finally getting to their first date! Yay! (Also, bonus points for anyone who knows where the quote is from that I named the chapter after.)**


	26. First Date

**Welcome** **back, readers! Sorry for the hiatus over the last week. My family had some things come up that took all of my time and energy. I haven't really written in almost two weeks, but luckily I'm far enough along in the story to be able to (hopefully) keep updating you each Tuesday. As a thank you for your patience, here's an extra long chapter. (Also-lemon forewarning activated!) Enjoy! xoxox (I uploaded this chapter earlier today and the formatting was ruined somehow. Sorry for the delay and thanks to those who let me know!)**

Several hours later the fire was roaring, food was in the oven, and Hermione's coin purse was a bit lighter. She'd not only picked up the dress but shoes and a few other bobbles as well. After that, they grabbed ingredients for dinner and hurried home.

As six rolled closer, indicating Draco's arrival, Hermione was fidgeting nonstop. She'd set the table a few different ways until finally settling on a cream tablecloth and candles. The plates were white with silver-rimmed edges. They accompanied a couple of wine glasses and sets of cutlery. A bottle of red wine was breathing, as her parents had taught her to do so many years ago, and the bread was warming in the broiler.

"Well, I'm off!" Ginny said. Hermione was moving the glasses and a small vase of flowers around for the hundredth time. Ginny whistled low as she took in the sight. When her eyes fell on Hermione's fidgety form she walked over and grabbed her by the shoulders to still her. "Relax," She instructed.

"I can't. This is technically our first date. There's so much pressure for it to be perfect,"

"As long as you two have a good time, it will be," Ginny said firmly and took a step back, taking in Hermione's appearance. "Isn't that dress the one-"

"Yes," Hermione cut her off.

"I thought you said you'd never wear it...?"

"I changed my mind now scoot, he'll be here any minute." Hermione insisted. Ginny grinned wickedly and sighed.

"My girl looks so grown up!"

"I'm older than you, Gin," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Only by a year but not in experience.

"I'm going to ignore your blatant lack of respect for my choices in life and simply bid you farewell," Hermione said, ushering her to the door. "Where are you going tonight, anyway?"

"I have something I have to do. I won't be back tonight. I'll most likely crash at Mum's." Ginny waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Hermione who swatted her on the arm with the dish towel she'd been twisting in her hands.

"Nothing's going to happen! Stop it!"

"You never know!" Ginny said excitedly. She wrenched open the door and almost collided into Draco.

"Wotcher there, Gin." He said, catching her upper arms before looking past her and stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of Hermione.

"Bye you two, have a good time!" Ginny sing-songed and took a few steps down the walk before disapparating.

Draco blinked once before coming to his senses. He stepped into the house and closed the door.

"Hermione you look..." he didn't finish, seeming at a loss for words. He simply stood there, drinking her in. She looked down at her own form bashfully, unsure of what to say.

"Dinner should be ready soon," She muttered and retreated back to the kitchen.

She thought the black dress was fancy enough for a date but maybe it had been a bit much? The top had thin straps; a small matte black bodice hugged her waist before fanning out in an A-line skirt. It was flirty and fun. Ginny had made her buy it when they'd gone shopping several years ago but she'd never had any occasion where she wanted to wear it. She wore a short, sheer, half-sleeved shrug that stopped just below her breasts to cover her shoulders for her own touch of modesty.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floors as she went to inspect the oven's contents. She peeked inside and shoved a thermometer into the meat to see if it was done. Still a tad bit under temperature, she closed the oven and set the dish towel and silver thermometer on the counter. All the prep for the meal had given Hermione something to focus on before. But having him in the house while she tried to finish made her anxiety soar.

A set of hands rested on her hips, sending a startled jolt through her.

"You nervous?" Draco murmured in her ear. Hermione took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to calm her nerves.

"Yeah," She admitted. Draco kissed a sensitive spot behind her ear and held her a few moments before letting go to turn her around.

"Okay. So we're both a little nervous. That's healthy, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well, I haven't been on many dates. And none of them made me feel like this." Draco confided. "I'm starting to wonder if I'll be good enough for you,"

"What?" Hermione asked. Draco was not the self-deprecating sort.

"I just meant... look at all this," He motioned to the kitchen table and all the lit candles sporadically placed around the room and then back at her. His eyes roamed over her body, making her blush fiercely. "It's like a picture. I'm not sure I deserve such a display."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Hermione asked rhetorically. "Besides, I believe the person who dropped a vault full of coinage today deserves a little compensation, don't you agree?" She gave him a pointed look. Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You might have a point there, Granger," He chuckled. After giving her peck on the cheek he walked over to the table and proceeded to kick off the wine.

"Why did you do that, by the way?" Hermione asked as he handed her a glass.

"Pay for your dress?" He took a sip and nodded his head in approval at her wine selection before continuing. "I didn't think it'd be very gentlemanly of myself to let you pay for a dress where the event was something I practically begged you to attend."

"Gentle-manliness aside, I'm worried," Draco cocked his head to the side inquisitively and gestured with his glass for her to continue. She shuffled nervously. "Can you even afford it?" She asked quietly. "Because if not, I'm sure we could take it back somehow-"

"I wouldn't have offered if I couldn't." He stated calmly.

"That's what Ginny said and she told me to leave it alone but-"

"I'm glad you didn't," Draco interrupted. "I'm living in your house for a reason. You have a small right to know how I could afford such a luxury." Hermione wasn't expecting him to be so forthright. She lifted the glass to her lips and felt the room-temp sweetness glide over her tongue. Draco continued, "I was sent a small nest egg left by my Mother after she passed; from the Black side of the family. It's how I've been scraping by so far,"

"And you thought it was prudent to spend your savings on a dress? I could have bought one myself," Hermione suggested.

"I know that. The dress hadn't been as much as I anticipated so you won't have to worry about depleting my savings." He said. "I have enough to live off of until I can get the estate taken care of and work a little more."

Hermione sighed. She felt a fraction better about him spending such a fortune on her. But not much.

"I still feel like I should at least give you some of your money back," She said after a beat. Draco shook his head, swallowing the last sip of his wine.

"Please don't, it was a gift." He said. His face was unreadable but his eyes spoke volumes. It looked as if she'd hurt him. Whether it was his ego or pride she wasn't sure. She buttoned up any further comments about the dress and turned her attention back on the meal.

"I hope dinner turns out,"

"Me too, I'm starving," Draco said, seeming grateful for her change of subject.

"You must be exhausted, too. Why don't you sit?" She offered. Draco took his place at the table and poured himself another glass of wine.

"I'm strangely not all that tired," He revealed.

"Must be due to your normal lack of sleep," she said. She took the bread out of the broiler and set it out to cool before pulling a tray of baked veggies out to do the same.

"I'm thinking that's only part of it," Draco said. "I'd wager the company I'm in has the most to do with that, though." He took another drink and looked pointedly at Hermione, who snorted at his flirting.

"Flattery won't get you too far here, Malfoy," she joked. He grinned and shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know. It seems to be making you blush quite a bit," He said. Hermione turned away. "I already saw you, love, no use in hiding."

"It's still a bit tough for me to let you see me this way," She said after a beat. She stirred around the vegetables with a pair of tongs and placed them in a serving platter. Draco hesitated before answering.

"What way?"

Hermione turned to him and gave him a small smile, willing herself to lay her chips out on the table so he would understand.

"Vulnerable." She said calmly.

Draco locked eyes with her, some emotion passing between them. She let him take in the word another minute before continuing. "I don't let down my walls very often anymore. Not that I did it much before the war but still... it's difficult to let anyone see this side of me."

"I think I understand more than most people might," Draco averted his gaze and looked down at his forearm, where the fading Dark Mark still marred his pale skin. "I'm not good at opening myself up to others. The only people who truly know me anymore are my friends."

"Me too," Hermione said. Draco looked at her then with a tiny bit of confusion.

"What about your parents?" He asked. "You don't bring them up much,"

"I-" She stopped herself. She wanted to be brave and tell him what happened to her parents. She wanted him to know why she never brought them up but... it was painful. She rarely talked about it with Ron or Harry anymore, either.

How do you reveal to someone your biggest regret in life?

"If you don't want to tell me yet, that's okay, Hermione," Draco assured calmly. Hermione lifted her eyes to his and sighed heavily.

She knew he had to be told. If they were going to try to be anything special to one another, it was important he understood her choice.

The timer for the meat went off and she quickly turned back to the oven, relieved by the distraction. Draco didn't say anything else about the subject, simply choosing to watch her mill about as she cut up the meat and readied the rest of the meal onto serving plates and set them out on the table.

Hermione sat on his left and folded her hands in her lap. Draco hummed in appreciation.

"Steak. Nice." He smiled.

"Ginny told me you loved it. It was a bit more simple than I expected for your favorite meal but I hope you enjoy it," She teased.

"I suppose I can't argue with that. Most men do stereotypically like a good steak." He chuckled and raised his glass towards her. She lifted her own and lightly clinked it against his. "To us and the start of something unexpected but, nevertheless, splendid." He toasted. Hermione smiled shyly and nodded.

"To us," She repeated. They each took a sip and tucked into their meals.

As dinner went on, the tension from earlier topics was forgotten, allowing Draco and Hermione talked about everything and nothing. Their likes and dislikes, goals and ambitions; they laughed and had a merry time. They discussed his more formative years at Hogwarts before they really got to know one another and she relayed all her adventures with Harry and Ron. Draco absorbed every word, asking her plenty of questions. He admitted to being slightly jealous that he'd never been able to go along with them but said it was probably for the best in the end because fate was tricky.

"So you believe in fate, then?" Hermione asked.

"Don't you?"

"I'm not really sure. Isn't it sort of in the same wheelhouse as Divination?"

"Maybe, depending on how you look at it." Draco pondered.

"I always thought that subject was weak," Hermione rolled her eyes and sipped on some water.

"I remember you storming out of class that one day. Professor Trelawny blamed it on your 'inability to open your mind.'" He chuckled as he imitated their former teacher. Hermione sneered and rolled her eyes.

"That woman made one accurate prophecy and thought she was a leading expert. Preposterous!" She scoffed. Draco chuckled at her and took another bite of his meal.

"What about Potter, then?"

"What about him?"

"As you said, she had one true prediction. Everything he faced and dealt with seemed to be controlled by fate." Draco mused.

"Even experts state that prophecies are only guessing until some choice or decision is made to bring them to light. If Harry hadn't made all the choices he did, who knows what would have happened."

"Still sounds like fate to me," Draco shrugged. Hermione wiped her mouth and set the cloth napkin on the table next to her plate.

"Call it fate or destiny, it's still our choices that put things in motion. I don't believe for an instant that everything I have or will decide is predetermined." Hermione took the last pull of her wine. Draco offered her more but she put a hand over her glass. "I think I've had quite enough," She smiled.

"You might need more for what I'm about to ask you." Draco held the bottle out.

"Ask it and I'll let you know," She said, a nervous edge to her voice. Draco held the bottle in his lap and looked out over the table.

"Why'd you bust out the so-called 'ginny dress' tonight? As I recall, you made some flimsy excuse about your owning it." He waggled his eyebrows. "Maybe you liked it more than you let on?" Hermione shrugged, smiling.

"I sort of almost ditched it but... I thought it should get some wear in its life."

"Nuh-uh. I don't believe that. I think you dressed up on purpose... for me," Draco placed the bottle back on the table and leaned in to brush a strand of hair from the corner of her mouth.

"Well this is a date, right? Some dressing up isn't unheard of-"

"But this dress?" He asked. His eyes slid down her body again. "One might be led to believe their opinion of such things is pretty important to you after the comments made about it previously-"

"It is," Hermione stated boldly, holding his gaze. His hand was still touching the side of her face. They were sitting very close together now, knees touching under the table. Draco's eyes flicked to her lips and back up again. "Your opinion matters. It's what's gotten me where I am so far." Hermione muttered. Draco raised a brow.

"How do you mean?"

"The book,"

"Ah, of course,"

"And how you feel for me. That's important, too," She said quietly, not looking at him. Her cheeks were tinted rose as she bit her lip in embarrassment. A second later, Draco pulled her lip from the vice of her teeth and he was kissing her. Hermione sighed softly and grabbed his face between her hands. They kissed slowly for a few moments, feeling out one another's reactions. Draco's hand slid up her back and grabbed the end of the braid resting there, tugging it gently so her face would arch back, allowing him access to her neck. He kissed down the base of her throat and stopped once he'd traveled to her collar bone. His actions sent tingles down her body and she found herself unable to hold back.

Hermione grabbed his face once more and brought his mouth back up to hers. She explored his lips a few more minutes before nipping the bottom one. Draco stood abruptly, pulling her up with him. He tugged her along to the couch where they sat side by side. He kissed her hand, then her wrist, forearm, shoulder, until they were clashing lips once more. Hermione couldn't tell how long they sat there just kissing. It could have been minutes or hours. Draco dragged her legs to rest over his lap at one point, seeming to need more contact. She understood perfectly, wanting to be as close as physically possible to him.

This new feeling of want was exciting and overpowering. The desire Hermione felt was nothing short of breathtaking.

Draco's hands roamed almost everywhere, careful not to tread too far. He slid his hand up her calf to her thigh at one point and Hermione couldn't help herself, she needed more. She grabbed his hand and he stilled, opening his eyes to look into her hooded ones. There was a small V between his eyebrows for a fraction of a second, as if he was concerned he'd gone too far, before Hermione removed her legs from his lap and moved to sit astride him. His eyes widened, surprise registering at her brazen action. He couldn't get one word out before Hermione recaptured his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She could feel the bulge in his pants as much as she could the tightness coiling in her belly. They were both feeling the same, it seemed, and it made Hermione's heart hammer inside her chest with equal parts want and anxiety.

Draco delicately pulled back on the hem of the shrug she was wearing. She let it fall from her arms onto the floor. Then he slid one strap from her dress off her shoulder, running his tongue over the exposed flesh. Hermione clung to him a bit harder, the new sensation taking over her anxiety, and involuntarily ground against him. Draco gasped and stilled, his arms holding her steadfast and his breathing coming out ragged. He pulled back and stared up at her in wonder, brushing a hand down her cheek.

The sensations easing, Hermione slowly came to her senses. As the fog of lust lifted, she replaced the strap of her dress.

"I-I'm sorry I... I got carried away-"

"We both did, Granger, no need to apologize," Draco said, his voice husky.

"But I've... I've never..." She looked away, her cheeks flushed crimson.

"I know, love. That's why I want to take this slow." He said. She peeked back over at him, looking relieved. "When you're ready, I am, too. But I don't think you are yet."

"S-so you don't want to... you know-"

"Oh no, I want to. More than you might understand but... I'm quite satisfied just being able to kiss you and hold you." He said, flashing her a smile. She returned it and touched her forehead to his.

"I had no idea this could feel so... intense," She said slowly. Draco smirked.

"Which part?" He chuckled.

"All of it." She said bluntly. "You and me being together. the intimacy of it all." She paused, thinking to herself before saying, "I'm not certain how but it already feels so-"

"Right." Draco finished. "Like two halves of a whole." He kissed her again and deposited her back on the couch.

"Exactly." Hermione agreed and took off her heels, letting them clatter to the floor. "I find I'm not afraid anymore."

"Were you very frightened when we made this decision?"

"Yes. It's terrifying opening up to someone who used to make your life as miserable as possible. You always think they're not being true to you; that anything kind they have to say is a farce somehow but... I don't feel that way now." She admitted.

"What changed your mind in the forty-eight hours we've been together?" Draco teased.

"Nothing drastic, really. It's just a feeling. And I'm not very used to relying on my heart instead of my head but I know I can trust it in this instance."

Draco looked down at his hands, shaking his head slightly.

"Too much?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all. I'm simply not used to anyone putting faith in me. It's a first."

Hermione stared at him a long while, contemplating his words. Draco looked steadily into the fire.

"We're both new to this, it seems. And in light of that, I feel like... it's important, to be honest with you about something." She said and looked down at her lap. Draco pulled one of her hands up and kissed it gently on her knuckles. Hermione waited for a beat before slowly peeling her hand from his and standing up. She walked a couple of paces before pausing. She shook out her hands, trying to work up courage; a strange concept for a Gryffindor. Blowing out a breath, she turned back around and captured Draco's silver eyes with her own.

"You look rather nervous. Whatever it is can't be that bad." He said, concern coloring his features.

"Okay," She paced in front of the fire. "Okay..." She paced back the other way. The hardwood sent a chill through her nyloned feet. "Something you have to understand is... that I had no choice." She said, not looking at him.

"I believe you. You're highly logical."

"Okay but... in this case, I literally saw no other way."

"Hermione... what is this about?"

"My parents," Hermione stopped pacing. She looked up at a picture on the mantle. It was her and her parents at King's Cross Station the first year she'd gone to Hogwarts. It was a muggle picture, her late granny had taken it before they went through the magically sealed wall of brick.

Hermione took the frame down and handed it to Draco. He examined it.

"You look like them. Mainly your Father."

"Yes," She agreed. Draco looked at the picture another beat before gazing up at her.

"Hermione, where are they?" He asked slowly.

"Australia."

"On vacation or...?"

"No. They live there." She said.

"Do they visit?" Draco asked. "Do you?"

"I did at one point. But I can't go back anymore." Hermione could feel the agony taking over. She willed the tears she felt forming to subside. She fanned her face and rolled her eyes upwards, not wanting to give in. Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her back down to the couch.

"Start from the beginning. You're not making any sense."

"I didn't go back to Hogwarts for our seventh year."

"Neither did I," Draco said. "The war was in full swing.

"Exactly. Before I could meet up with Ron and Harry at the Burrow, I had to make sure if I left, my parents would be safe. Muggles everywhere were being tortured and killed just for the fun of it... I didn't want to imagine what they'd do to my parents specifically if they found out who they were. I mean, your father had already seen what they looked like-"

"Wait... what are you getting at exactly?"

"I used a memory charm on them." Hermione rushed out. She didn't look at him as she spoke, only down at the picture he was still holding. Draco didn't say anything. He waited for her to continue.

"It was just another day. We were having tea in the afternoon as we always did. Mum made scones. Dad took the afternoon off. He'd been working a lot. Mum and I missed him. Especially me, because I knew it would be our last summer together.

"Mum asked me to grab the scones from the kitchen and when I came back..." Hermione lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. Draco hesitated, putting the pieces together.

"You used obliviate?" Draco asked in a hushed tone. She peeked up at him in shame as he gaped at her. Nodding, she swiped a rogue tear from her cheek. Draco's eyes became tight, surveying her in sympathy.

"It was all I could think to do. I set the plan in motion for them to go live in Australia. I wanted them to be safe and happy. I thought I could always go back one day and at least try to reverse it-"

"Obliviate isn't reversible. If they were found, it would have been way worse for them."

"It was," Hermione said, looking back into the fire. "The Death Eaters thought they were being coy on purpose and tortured them mercilessly trying to find out where I was; where Harry was,"

Draco squeezed her hand hard. Something she hadn't seen in a long time flashed in his eyes as she looked back at him. It looked like fear.

"Are... are they?"

"Dead?" Hermione asked bitterly. "No. That would have been a mercy for them. Death Eaters were never any good at that." She stood up and began clearing dishes from the table, a need to be doing anything useful coursing through her. Draco followed her and helped out, trying to be patient so she'd reveal the rest when she was ready. Hermione set the dishes washing and began blowing out candles. That's when Draco stopped her and turned her to face him.

"Tell me the rest."

"I'm tired, Draco," she deflected, not looking him in the eye.

"Please," he pleaded. They stood, motionless, both unable to even breathe much. A slow resolve formed on her face before she spoke.

"Your father identified them as my parents. They were tortured to the point of oblivion." Hermione admitted. "They're located in an insane asylum outside of Sydney now." Draco blanched, running both hands through his hair before pulling the strands in the back in a vice grip, his frustration palpable.

"Fuck's sake... is there anything that man doesn't ruin?" Draco's voice was verging on rage. His hands fell to his sides "Hermione, I can't even begin to tell you how so-"

"Don't say sorry. It wasn't your fault nor your actions that caused it."

"No but he's my father, it seems I'll continue to pay for his sins no matter what I do." Draco raked a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at her. His cheeks were red and his demeanor slumped.

"The people who expect you to do that are no friends to you. Merlin knows I don't expect that." Hermione set a hand on his chest. "I'll admit I could never forgive your family for what they've done. That doesn't include you, though. Please believe that,"

Draco hesitated. He was used to people writing him off as a bad guy. And why wouldn't they? He was no saint and had done his fair share of criminal behavior. Some days he truly believed he belonged in a cell amongst the other Death Eaters.

"I can see you overthinking this," Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't."

"It's easy for you to say. Your family wasn't evil." Draco said glumly.

"No. But they're no better off, are they? It was my mistake. I should have just had them stay with a wizarding family or cloaked their house."

"They might have been found no matter what," Draco said. "What I'm confused about is why no one else seems to know about this,"

"Why would I reveal my darkest regret?" She asked rhetorically. Draco knew what she meant. He'd had a hand in more than one deep, dark regret. Things he couldn't even imagine sharing with her. How could he blame her for hiding the darkest parts of herself?

"I understand," He said softly. "I know it was hard to say but thank you for telling me. It helps me, in its own way, to understand you more fully. The panic attacks and the anxiety,"

"All things I was previously seeing a mind healer for. I stopped going but I've made an appointment to continue treatment. I can't stand feeling so weak and insecure anymore."

"You're neither of those things," Draco assured.

"Right now I am. I used to be so confident in my decisions and everyday life. Now I'm holed up here or in an office all day."

"You have my support, should you need it." He said. "Even if it's just accompanying you to appointments. I'm here," His assurance and acceptance made her feel like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She nodded her thanks, hoping it conveyed the emotions running through her. Draco swept her up in a tight embrace.

"I selfishly thought I was the only one who still suffered from the aftermath of the war." He added, his voice hush against her ear. "I'm sorry you're suffering, too."

"We all are, in our own way, Draco. Ginny still takes odd ways home from places, as if she's shaking an invisible Death Eater who might be trailing her. Harry has nightmares from time to time. Ron won't go anywhere near the Forest of Dean. Not even on Auror missions. We're all a little messed up."

"The Forest of Dean?" Draco asked.

"Where he destroyed one of the Horcruxes." She said. Draco pulled back, almost looking impressed.

"I thought Potter got them all."

"No. Ron and I both destroyed one. So did Dumbledore. And remember, Neville killed Nagini, too. Harry is always going on about how much help he had. No one seems to believe him sometimes," Hermione chuckled. Draco smirked.

"Trust me, no one believes Potter did any of what he did on his own."

They laughed, some of the tension from the heavy conversation dissipating again.

"Are you ready for dessert?" Hermione asked.

"I was pretty certain we just had it," He said coyly, his eyes flickering back to the couch. Hermione shook her head as she walked over to the fridge. She fished from its contents two round, perfectly layered chocolate mousses. The stripe on the bottom was dark brown. The middle was lighter brown, and the top layer was white. It had dark chocolate shavings on top.

"You actually made mousse?" He asked, excited. He loved anything chocolate. Hermione nodded.

"We can go eat it and watch a movie on the couch if you'd like?" She smiled, looking truly herself for the first time since their date started.

"A movie, eh? You have one of those muggle contraptions, I'd wager?"

"Of course."

"I've seen a few with friends, but we always go to muggle theaters to see them."

"Oh really? What have you seen?" Hermione asked. They made their way over to the living room. Draco sat on the couch while Hermione set down the desserts and began making up the television and muggle movie machine.

"I've seen some classics. None of the newer things appealed much to me. 'The Wizard of Oz,' was good. So was 'Singing in the Rain.'"

"Those are some of the best. I have a movie I think you'll appreciate. It's not a classic in terms of when it was made, but it is considered a classic." She said, pulling a movie disc from a plastic, folding case and setting it in the tray of the movie machine. Draco was fascinated with how, at a push of a button, it whirred closed and began playing the feature. The most technological thing Draco owned from the muggle world was a cellphone, and that was only because a wizard had figured out how to configure it so magic wouldn't screw with the signal. He found it very useful for business.

Hermione sat down flush against him, cuddling into his arms and handing him his dessert and a spoon. Draco draped the throw over their legs and settled in, kicking off his own shoes and folding his legs under himself. When the title screen came on, he smiled.

"I thought you'd like it."

"I had no idea they made 'Pride and Prejudice' into a movie!" Draco said excitedly.

"They've made a few different movies and tv shows. This is the more recent version with Kiera Knightly in it." Hermione explained, pressing the 'play' button on the square remote.

"I think I've heard of her," he said.

"She's a very famous actress here in London. I wouldn't be surprised."

"Shh, it's starting!" Draco shushed her and Hermione grinned to herself. The beginning piano notes fluttered out of the speakers as Kiera walked onto the screen, instantly enchanting us both.

They were about five minutes into the movie when Draco remembered his treat. He took a bite, quietly praised Hermione for its goodness with a kiss and quick remark, before wolfing the entire thing as quickly as he could so he could pay attention to the movie better.

At the end, Draco sighed happily.

"Not everything from the book was in the movie but, it was still a very pleasing watch." He said. Hermione giggled. "These muggle contraptions are brilliant. We should do this every night." He said as he got up to carry the dishes to the sink.

"Maybe not every night. Our lives are hectic enough as it is right now. I'm not even sure how you're still verticle with your lack of sleep last night." Hermione scoffed.

"I have great incentive to be awake, I guess." He teased. "But when you're right, you're right. Tomorrow is a big day. I should head to bed."

"Ah yes. The auction. Will you be attending work, as well?" She asked. Draco set a washing charm on the dishes and nodded.

"I'm taking a half day. The auction starts at two."

"Would you like me to attend?" She asked warily. She knew Latif had been fired but she wouldn't put it past him to somehow show up. Draco shook his head.

"Dragging you to the ball on Saturday will be punishment enough, I think. Besides, it will be completely drab.

"Well let me know if you change your mind." She said, wanting to be supportive. He nodded and kissed her jaw.

"I will. Goodnight Miss Granger." He said softly. "And thank you for the date. I had a lovely time. Everything was delicious."

"Any time." She promised. With a final, dazzling smile, Draco headed to his own room to crash.


	27. Approval

"Ginny, this really is irregular." The motherly voice said through the back-lit shadow of the door.

"Please, Andy. I need to talk to Teddy." Ginny had been at Andromeda's house earlier to speak with the woman about her qualms with Harry and Theo. Andromeda, who was always motherly like Molly but with a tad more severity due to her Black family lineage, had listened with an open mind and given her a fair bit of advice; not all of it what Ginny wanted to hear, though.

"He's getting ready for bed. And honestly? This is between you and Harry, dear. He can't make up your mind for you,"

"I know," Ginny said solemnly. "I've come to a decision. I simply need his blessing."

Andromeda viewed Ginny over her glasses with a classic Tonks expression that eluded to her stubborn resolve crumbling. She hesitated a moment longer before finally opening the front door to her small, cozy home to let Ginny inside.

"Thank you," Ginny said as she walked past her.

The Tonks home looked much as it always did. The fire was crackling in the hearth, bathing the sitting room in an orange glow. The couches were draped in crocheted blankets. The armchair, where Andromeda sat the most often, had a little indent in the middle where most of her weight was distributed; a basket of yarn and sewing needles sat on one side while a small table with a jar of candies sat on the other. The radio in the kitchen was on, playing muggle hits from the eighties. A kettle began to whistle. Andromeda excused herself to attend to it.

The walls were lined with pictures in frames. Some muggle pictures, others moving freely. The one of Tonks and Lupin after their small wedding ceremony was hung next to the only photo of the small family together taken right after Teddy was born. Ginny passed the photos with the same reverence she showed every time she visited. She missed her friends greatly. It was a miracle Teddy came into the world from their love. She had no intention to bring anymore heartache to him.

She walked passed Andromeda's room and the loo. Teddy's room was at the end. The door was open, allowing her to take him in freely without being noticed.

The almost eleven-year-old was sprawled out on his bed, a book clutched firmly in his hands. His nose almost touched the pages. He was squinting in concentration, his hair was his natural brown hue for once. It was rare that Teddy showed his real hair color. It usually only happened when he was distracted or sleeping.

"You might need glasses," She said, startling the boy. He dropped the book on the bed and beamed up at her.

"Ginny, hi!"

"Did you tell Grandma about your eyesight?" She asked, sitting on the edge of his bed. He rolled his eyes.

"I only struggle with the textbooks that have tiny, cramped words." He retorted.

"You'll suffer through school without proper reading glasses. I'll mention it to her."

"Ginny-"

"Do you want to surpass Aunt Hermione in grades or not? She would never put her pride over her learning." Ginny said smartly. Teddy thought about that for a minute.

"Yeah, okay," He grumbled. The kid really had his eyes on outsmarting Hermione one day. It was adorable, but she feared he may be no match for her freakish tenacity.

"So I came here for a reason," Ginny said. Teddy propped himself on an elbow and raised an eyebrow. For a second, Ginny felt like she was talking directly to Lupin. Teddy had a way of looking both stern and inquisitive, just like his father. It was uncanny and somewhat unsettling at times.

"Well, it _is_ almost bedtime. I thought it might be important." He said shrewdly. Ginny ruffled his hair and, like a reminder, he immediately turned it his favorite shade of teal.

"Right. Um," Ginny wrung her hands in her lap. How did you tell a kid, who was like your own, that you wanted to start dating their Godfather again?

"Is this about Harry?" Ginny fought back a bubble of laughter in her throat. Teddy was crazy intuitive for his age. She nodded instead and he sighed. "I thought so."

"I love him, Teddy."

"I know you do." He said. "You told me that you'll always love him."

"In the past I have said that, it's true. When I told you that before, though, I'm not sure I meant it in a way that was romantic." She said slowly.

Teddy sat up and crisscrossed his legs.

"And now it is?" He asked. Ginny smiled shyly at him, twitching her lips in a small upturn.

"Would you be okay with that?"

"Harry has to be okay with it, not me." He glanced over at the picture at his bedside. It was of the first time Harry held him as a baby, right after the war ended. Harry's eyes were watery, an expression of equal parts love and sorrow on his face. Ginny was there, too, stroking Teddy's tiny head as the baby slumbered away. Even then, his hair was hardly ever brown, but teal instead. Tonks herself swore he came out with teal coloring. Remus said it was brown. In the picture, it was a soft shade of chestnut.

"I haven't spoken to him yet, Teddy. I wanted to know if it was okay with you first," She said uncertainly. Teddy's eyes flickered yellow a moment before returning to brown.

"I don't know. It depends, I guess." He mumbled. Ginny waited for him to continue. When it didn't look like he would, she put a hand on his forearm and sighed.

"I promise, if Harry will have me back, I will never, _never_ , leave you guys again. You're my whole life. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't." She said quietly. She'd always feared he had abandonment problems as a result of her breaking things off with Harry. Andromeda swore he'd been too young to know the difference but she could see the pain in his eyes. Despite her best efforts to be in his life and despite how often he pretended he was okay, she knew he couldn't be. His own parents had died before he could know them. And then she'd acted so recklessly, robbing him of the prospect of a normal life. Ginny would never forgive herself. How could she expect him to?

"If it's okay with Harry, I suppose that'll be alright." He said, still looking away from her.

"Hey," She tilted her head to one side, trying to get his attention. He glanced at her and smirked just a tiny bit as she made a funny face at him. "I mean it, are you okay with this?"

"I want Harry to be happy. I know he misses you, still." He said, sounding like he held a little more resolve when he answered this time. Ginny kissed his temple.

Teddy was the second person, aside from Hermione, to mention that. Unsure if it was just wishful thinking or the truth, she couldn't wait to find out.

"I'm going over there. I'll let you know of any news," She promised. Teddy's smile grew a fraction more. "Don't be too hopeful, Ted. Anger is tricky. And broken hearts are worse. I'll try to work my charms on him but he could have had enough." Teddy nodded.

"Okay, I won't."

"Time for bed, I think," Andromeda said from the doorway. She'd clicked the radio off and the only thing that could be heard in the house was the crackling of the fire down the hall. Teddy nodded at his Grandmother and flipped his blankets around himself, resting his head on his pillow.

"Do you want a Lumos charm tonight?" Ginny asked. The boy wasn't afraid of the dark anymore, but her own twist on the small light made it appear as if stars were blotted all over his ceiling until he fell asleep. He'd loved it since he was a small babe. Teddy smiled sheepishly and nodded again. Andromeda watched on as Ginny took out her wand and created the starry sky with a whisper of magic. She leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, sweet boy."

"Goodnight," Teddy said softly. Before the bedroom door shut all the way, he whispered, "Goodluck."

...

"I really wish you wouldn't get his hopes up," Andromeda said a moment later as Ginny's hand rested on the front door.

"He's our son, Andy. I needed to know he would be okay with this decision." Ginny's temper flared. "I'll fight like hell to gain forgiveness from him. I want my family back."

Andromeda stared at her over her spectacles a moment, seeming to size the petite girl up. Finally, she nodded her head once in approval.

"It's about damn time." She said brashly. Ginny, who'd been ready with a smart retort for her due to their earlier conversations about Ginny giving up, stuttered over the garbled words and stopped herself, caught off guard. "What're you sputtering for, child? Go get him!"

Without another word, Ginny wrenched open the door and sped off into the night. Andromeda sat down in her armchair, feeling perfectly satisfied with how things were going. She expected to hear the crack of disapparation but it didn't come. Instead, Ginny tore back into the house and pointed towards Teddy's room.

"By the way, Teddy needs readers!" She said, out of breath,

"I'm on it, go!" Andromeda laughed. Ginny ran back out and another moment later, the disapparation crack was heard through the house. The aging woman grabbed a bit of her knitting, a half-made project in her hands. She held it up and smiled wistfully. It was an almost perfect square of yellow yarn, tiny owls sewn all around the borders. She'd had a small premonition a few weeks prior and was sure Ginny would be expecting s little addition by the time summer was halfway over.

 **Thanks for bearing all the technical malfunctions, y'all. I'm not sure why the formatting keeps going all haywire. I hope you enjoy the chapter!**


	28. Ginny Pays a Visit to Grimmauld Place

**Here's a bonus chapter for all you Hinny lovers out there!**

Harry pulled his glasses off his face in frustration, a hand rubbing through his unruly hair. He was exhausted. The entire DVF case was driving him up a wall. He'd barely slept since the explosion, constantly worrying about his family and coming up with zero results from any of the work he was putting in.

He reached for his wine glass and found it empty. The bottle he'd been drinking from had only a small sip left at the bottom. Normally, he wouldn't drink while pouring over casework. He'd hoped it'd help him sleep, though, and had been nursing it for hours to accomplish some semblance of ease or fatigue.  
Fatigued he was, but sleep still eluded him.

He'd been resting on the couch; a folder of dead ends laying on his chest for the better part of the night. Brunt had sent him home for sleep but it wasn't easy when you felt personally responsible to solve a case such as this. His family had been threatened. Charlie and Hermione, both. He couldn't bear to think what might've happened if either of them had been at the Ministry the night of the explosion.  
It had been a warning to back off. And after the statement he'd taken from George when Latif was at his shop, all fingers seemed to be pointing at the oily wizard in question. George had been clear of his account with the wizard and even provided his memories for pensieve evidence. But like everything else, that was gone, too.

Whoever was responsible, whether it be Latif himself or someone he was working for, they had to have an inside man in the Ministry or the Auror Division itself.

Harry had shared this with Brunt but the man refused to think any of the Auror's could be disloyal. He insisted it had to be someone rogue within the Ministry.

The problem was, there were hundreds of witches and wizards who worked there. Some of them ex-cons with a rehabilitation program and some ex-death eaters who'd been miraculously cleared of their charges at some point. It was a much smaller pool of people that the task force for this case had looked into. All of them had been under surveillance, of course, but nothing even pinged an irregularity. That meant going over every single personnel file in the Ministry by hand. The work was tedious, practically blinding him.

He'd been leafing through the file of a portly wizard from the Fliers wing when he decided he couldn't look at another portfolio any longer. The words and faces all melded together and made his tired mind that much more confused. He rubbed his hands over his face again and sighed, thinking he may as well try to head up to bed.

That's when his doorbell rang.

The thing about Grimmauld Place was that, despite the many years that had gone by and countless removing spells, he couldn't rid the cloaking measurements on the house. It seemed to be in a constant state of a panicked safehouse and would only allow you to see it if you were a secret keeper for it, like in the old days. All of his friends and family were made into 'secret keepers' so they could come over and visit any time, but only a few wouldn't make the house directly alert him through a small shift in the air before they rang the bell.

To the contrary, the house seemed to sigh pleasantly. It'd sound strange to anyone else who hadn't lived there as long as Harry; almost like the sound of wind blowing and the support beams creaking softly at the same time. But to him, it sent his nerves flying.  
Only one person made the house so relaxed.

Harry flung off the Molly-made blanket he'd been under and took off. He skittered past a mirror in the hallway and hesitated. He stepped back to view himself, cursed his dreadful appearance, and skipped back down the hall. He wrenched open the door without so much as checking through the peephole.

Ginny Weasley was standing on his doorstep.

He scarcely wanted to believe it.

"Hi," She said uncertainly, pulling at the sleeves of her jumper. "May I come in?"

Harry swallowed, unsure of himself, but gestured her in. She breezed past him and he stiffened, catching her unique scent of lilac and windy summer days. Merlin, he missed that smell.

Already lagging behind, he caught up to her in a few large strides.

"Tea?" He asked, unsure of what else to do than offer her refreshment. She shook her head, no.

"Have anything stronger?" She asked as they entered the sitting room.

"I just finished the wine, sorry. I have firewhiskey, though?" He offered.

"Just a shot," She fiddled with her zipper, zipping it up and down a few inches at a time and looking as if she'd like to be anywhere else. Harry left to fetch her shot and compose himself.

In the kitchen, he braced himself on the worn table that had been through many family dinners and Order meetings. Harry had been through a million difficult situations but this one was, by far, towards the top of his list of things he'd rather not deal with. Every time he saw her, Harry felt the bitterness of their separation. He wasn't sure why she was here or what she wanted from him, but he was determined to get her out of his house as quickly as possible.

He picked up the bright red glass bottle of firewhiskey, poured her a shot, and returned in double time. She was sitting on the sofa he'd vacated earlier, staring into the fire and looking forlorn.

"Here," He handed her the tiny shooter, careful not to touch her as she reached for it with an appreciative nod. She knocked it back and made a sour face, her shoulders shimmying in displeasure and her tongue sticking out to further show her distaste for the liquid.

"Still not a whiskey drinker, I take it," He observed quietly. She smiled weakly and shook her head.

"Not at all."

"Then why ask for the shot?"

"Liquid courage, I suppose." She shrugged. Harry paused a beat, taking the tiny glass from her and setting it on the mantle, before deciding to get to the point.

"What's going on, Gin?"

"I could ask you the same thing," She said, looking around at the piles of thick folders and take-out containers. "This place is a mess." Harry rolled his eyes, about to comment. "And so are you. Have you even slept since last week?"

Harry raked a hand through his hair, making it stick up in the only places it wasn't before.

"You don't have to worry about me," he assured her, wanting this conversation to be over.

"Well I do, none the less."

"I doubt that," He said acidly, his words coming out harsher than he meant. At her hurt expression, he grimaced. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair."

"No, no. You have a right to doubt," she said softly, looking down at her fingers. She commenced fiddling with her zipper.

"What do you want, Ginny?" Harry needed her to get to the point so she could leave. He couldn't stand her sitting there with her smell invading his space after it had taken so long to get it out. He didn't want to be sitting down one day and catch her scent randomly. It was too difficult.

She said something in a soft whisper. Harry could barely make it out. She had her head down and her eyes looking anywhere but at him, so he couldn't read her lips or her expression. "I didn't catch that,"

"You." She said a little louder. It was barely audible, but Harry caught it and blanched, unsure he heard her correctly.

"Come again?"

Ginny met his eyes through her lashes and he could see a fresh twinkling of tears in her eyes.

"Harry I messed up," she whispered. "I'm here to ask your forgiveness and..." she hesitated, trying to will her tears away so she could finish a thought. Harry's shock was palpable, his eyes unable to look away from her.

Ginny Weasley was the strongest woman he knew. Her strength was only rivaled by a few other people in his life. Even when she'd broken up with him, she'd appeared strong and unyielding. But in front of him now sat a girl who looked vulnerable and lost. It was unfamiliar territory for him.

"Harry I want to start over. With you. And Teddy." She said a little louder. Harry stood straighter and took a step back.

"You can't just say that," he stated. He was trying his hardest to hold in his temper.

"I just did." She stood, too, wanting to be on even ground with him.

"It took a long time for me to... come to terms... with your decision," Harry said carefully.

"You don't seem to even be at that point yet," Ginny suggested. Harry glared at her.

"You don't even know me anymore," he practically growled out.

"I know you better than almost anyone," she retorted.

"You broke our family, Gin. I don't begrudge you... much... anymore." He lied to them both. "We were young and I know you had things in your life you wanted to do. But you can't just decide to come back because you've done them and now you're bored. Besides, what would Theo say-?"

"He broke up with me!" Ginny threw up her hands, raising her voice.

Harry waited for a beat before responding. "I'm sorry you're hurting, Gin. Really, I am. But you can't expect me to accept you back because you're lonely or broken-hearted. I have Teddy to think about. He doesn't deserve someone who only wants to be his mother when it's convenient."

"Harry, stop," Ginny's tears were free-flowing now. "That's not what this is,"

"Then tell me: why have you come to this decision now? After all these years?" He asked. Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.

"I wanted to come back right after I ended things," she said. "But I convinced myself it'd be better for you... and for Teddy, if I wasn't part of the equation. At least, not an active part. You wanted to be an Auror, Harry. And I had just been picked up by the Harpies. I couldn't be a full-time Mother and a Quidditch player. Both of our careers require too much attention. I thought I would be okay with spending weekends with him and taking him to games during Quidditch season but... it ripped me apart. And the more distance I put between all of us, the less pain I felt. I thought I should move on. When I met Theo-"

"I don't want to hear about Theo-"

"You have to," Ginny insisted. "It's important." Harry didn't argue but looked ready to punch something.

"When Theo and I became friends, and then more once he asked me out, I thought maybe it was my second chance at love. Until then, I hadn't found anyone who I was interested in romantically. With him it was easy. We had fun and laughed a lot.

"He re-introduced me to Malfoy, Blaise, and Pansy. We all went out together, becoming rather chummy. Even Ron and George joined in from time to time. And everything seemed to be going swimmingly until Hermione's party."

"I wasn't myself that night," Harry said almost apologetically.

"I think you were more yourself than ever. What you and Hermione said tore me apart. I sort of felt I'd been playing a part with him up until that point.

"Theo immediately called me on my shit after we'd Portkeyed to America. I tried to brush it off like it hadn't affected me. But I couldn't even enjoy my time there with him... because I kept thinking about you. Theo kept bringing it up until, eventually, he and I had an all-out screaming match in the middle of the desert. He asked if I was still in love with you. I couldn't answer. So he broke it off and told me to go home."

"He didn't come back to London with you?"

"No."

Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I wasn't lying when I told you I felt too young to be a wife and a mother. I still believe twenty was too young. But the way you reacted when I told you I needed space... after you'd proposed and I wasn't sure what I wanted? I'll never forget that, Harry. You were cold towards me. Much like you're acting now-"

"You'd just told me you needed to think about whether or not you wanted to get married! What was I supposed to do, jump for joy at you being unsure of me?" Harry raised his voice, gesturing between them.

"Of course not! You were supposed to let me have my time to think. But it was clear if I didn't say yes right away, you'd be done with me. I may have made the decision to leave, but you didn't really stop me from going, Harry." She said. The warmth from the steady stream of tears lasted only a second., the tears becoming cooler the further down her face they got. Her heart felt much the same, the feeling of icy dread pumping through her veins. This wasn't how she imagined this conversation going.

Harry looked sick.

"So what now? You're suddenly ready for us full time? What about the Harpies?"

"I'm resigning, Harry. I have an interview for a position at the Daily Prophet."

"Seriously?" He asked.

"Yes. As Quidditch Correspondent." She admitted. "I'm serious, Harry. I love you. And Teddy. I don't want to be apart any longer. I don't know if you can forgive me for hurting you guys but... if it helps... Teddy gave me his blessing tonight."

"You spoke with him?" Harry's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "I wish you hadn't done that,"

"I wasn't about to chase you if Teddy wasn't on board. It's his life, too." She said bluntly.

Harry's mind was a cluster of jumbled, messy feelings.

On one hand, he was hopping pissed. At himself and at Ginny for letting themselves make such a mess of things. On the other, he'd daydreamed about the prospect of this moment a million times, wondering if Ginny would ever come to her senses.

She was right, of course: he'd never really fought for her. He'd merely taken in the words she'd said to break them apart and used them as fuel to move on the best he could and thought there was nothing he could do about it.

"Realizing that he might have changed the outcome if he'd simply fought for his family made him furious. But at this point, there wasn't much that could be done. They'd both messed up. Royally. And it wasn't only his heart on the line. He had Teddy to think about.

"Sure, Harry had been set up on a few dates over the years. No one lasted more than a few months and he couldn't see himself settling, so he stopped accepting the set-ups entirely, hoping for something more organic to come along. Work had made that rather impossible, though. Being a Senior Auror came with its own drawbacks; and all his spare time was spent with Teddy.

Harry did still love Ginny. More than he should after such a long time. But for her to realize her feelings now? I was unfathomable.

Ginny watched as the several emotions going through Harry's mind played out across his face. She wasn't sure if she should say anything else. All her cards were out and it was up to him to either call or concede. A minute passed by. Then five. They both stood awkwardly, unsure of who should make the first move.

A small hand rested on Harry's chest. He hadn't even heard her approach. He looked up, still guarded. Ginny's eye held a familiar emotion in them. And suddenly he was transported back to the battle of Hogwarts.

He'd run into her in passing during the thick of the battle. They'd only had a singular moment in which they'd kissed, not knowing if they'd see one another alive again, before breaking away in opposite directions.

She was wearing that same look of longing and desperation. Harry almost broke down right there.

"Please don't fight this," she pleaded. And before he could think or say anything, she was brushing her lips softly against his. He had a moment of hesitation before grabbing her fiercely around the waist and tugging her small body towards himself, deepening the kiss.

"Harry didn't want to fight anymore. He wanted to give in to the need he'd had for her after so many long years of being apart.

But he couldn't.

In another moment the kiss was broken. Harry pulled away abruptly, their lips smacking loudly at being ripped apart, and drew back several steps.

"No," was all he said, unable to look at her. Ginny's hand drifted up to her face, tracing her lips, the bottom one trembling slightly.

"Please," she begged softly. "just think about it. I'm not going anywhere." With that said, she walked by him in quick paces and let herself out, clicking the door shut behind her.

The house creaked; the sound eerie and melancholic.

"Oh, shut up," Harry murmured to the stubborn house before extinguishing the fire and heading up to his bed, knowing he'd have another restless night ahead.


	29. The Day Before The Ball

"Draco, you'll be late for work," Hermione called through his door. When she received no answer, she opened it slightly.

Draco was still sound asleep. One pillow under his messy blonde locks, the other cradled tenderly between his arms. She smiled to herself, finding him quite adorable.

Hermione made her way to the bed and sat down next to his back. She remembered wanting to brush his hair out of his eyes one of the first nights he'd stayed there. Now she could do it freely if she so wished; girlfriend priveledges and all.

Reaching out her hand, she tucked a small lock behind his ear and planted a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

"Draco," she called softly. His arm quickly reached out behind himself and he grabbed her strongly around the waist. She squealed as he pulled her up and over his body, settling her in the warmth of his arms in lieu of the pillow, which was abandoned on the floor. Draco inhaled, his nose buried in her hair, and sighed contently.

"Good morning, Granger,"

Hermione laughed and snuggled in closer.

"Good morning to you, too, but you should be up by now,"

"Oh? What time is it?" He asked sleepily.

"Almost eight thirty," she said softly. Draco hesitated only a second before scrambling out of bed in a hurry.

"Merlin's beard!" He yelled and tore off in the direction of the loo. Hermione laughed and followed him out at a slower pace. By the time she made it to the loo, he was running product in his hair and had a toothbrush poking out of his mouth.

"Would you like breakfast?" She asked uncertainly. He shook his head, no, and spit out the remainder of the toothpaste, sticking his head under the faucet to rinse his mouth out.

"I'll just grab something when I can," he assured her.

"I'll leave you to it, then,"

Hermione meandered into the kitchen and fixed herself some toast. She was smearing it with blackberry jam when Draco bustled in with his suit jacket half on and his bag open as he tried shoving papers into it. He also had sunglasses hanging down his nose. Spring seemed to finally be revealing itself, the sun shining through the kitchen window.

Draco adjusted everything so he looked presentable and looked up at her. She had just taken a bite of her toast and was crunching it in her mouth. He smirked, coming around the counter quickly and pausing before her.

"You make that look so good." He said before leaning over and taking a large bite, practically half of the toast itself, and smiling through his chewing. Hermione had a mind to pretend to be affronted, reminded of his first morning there, but laughed instead.

"You're an animal,"

"I know," he said unapologetically. He swallowed his bite and leaned forward again. She thought it was for another bite but he suckled the side of her mouth instead before giving her sweet, tangy kiss.

"You had some jam on you, love," he said seductively. Hermione's face flushed and he laughed, striding past her to the front door. "Have a good day," he called back.

"You, too," she managed out before he closed the door, a disapparation crack sounding out a moment later.

...

Around noon, an owl swooped down and landed on the back of a lawn chair. Hermione had taken her work out of doors since the day decided to be so appealing for once. She had her laptop and several reference books fanned out on the patio table, the large umbrella providing sufficient shade so her computer wouldn't be so glaring in the sun.

The owl hooted to get her attention when she didn't automatically greet it.

"Hello, there," she smiled. She offered the handsome tawny owl a biscuit after removing the letter from its leg. It was a licensing request. The only one she'd received in the time after the Ministry explosion. She read it over quickly, the owl waiting patiently for her reply.

She was signing the bottom of the form when Ginny strode out the back sliding door, looking quite forlorn.

"Hey Gin," Hermione smiled up at her and faltered a bit at the redheads' expression. "What's going on? Where have you been?"

"I stayed at Mum's house last night," she admitted. Hermione blinked once, attached the finished request to the owls' foot, and then stood to survey her friend more closely as the owl flew away.

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "Why the glum face?"

"I went to talk with Harry last night,"

"That's a surprise. We talked about writing a letter but you've always been so bold." Hermione stated. "I'm guessing it didn't go so well?"

Ginny shook her head slowly. The rims of her eyes were red again but no tear was in sight.

"I tried to tell him things between Theo and me were over; that I loved and missed him and Ted but..." She shrugged one shoulder half-heartedly. "he didn't want to hear it."

"How did you come to the conclusion to even confront him? The last we spoke, you weren't even at that point yet,"

"While you were sleeping yesterday I went to Andy's house. We talked. I wanted her advice about Harry. She didn't seem enthused at all; actually warning me away from him. She said I'd put him through too much heartache." Ginny looked contrite. "I mulled over what she said all day. I couldn't think of anything else. I knew in my heart that what she said was true but that I didn't want that. I wanted to make things right again. You know me. I can be stubborn and reckless sometimes. But not about this. I was and am one hundred percent sure about him."

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione squeezed her hand.

"I wanted to make sure Teddy would be okay with it, though. I asked his permission and he gave it. By the end of my conversation with him, even Andy seemed to be on board with my decision finally. So I rushed over to Harry's house and begged him back. I even kissed him,"

"You didn't-?!"

"Yes, I did. And he brushed me off," she looked somewhat guilty, but Hermione wasn't buying it. The brunette pulled her along to sit back down at the patio table and poured her friend some lemonade from the pitcher at the other side.

"Maybe time will help," Hermione suggested. Ginny simply looked numb as she sipped the lemonade slowly.

"Maybe,"

The girls sat in silence a while. Hermione wasn't sure what else to say to make it better. And really, she knew nothing would truly make the situation less painful for her, but she had to try.

"The ball is tomorrow," Hermione said slowly. Ginny didn't show she'd heard what she said so she went on, "I was thinking we could prepare for it today." At that, Ginny flicked her eyes over to her best friend and sighed.

"Yeah?"

"Sure. We could do facials and paint our nails. Does that sound okay?" Hermione was throwing Ginny a bone.

"I guess that sounds like fun. And we can practice our hairstyles, too!" Ginny perked a little. Hermione nodded.

"Exactly,"

"You order takeout, I'll get everything set up!"

"Will do!" Hermione said as Ginny made her way into the house. The girl looked slightly less gloomy but she wasn't fooling anyone. This would only be a temporary fix. Hermione just hoped it was enough of a distraction for the day.

...

Several hours and eggrolls later, the best friends were sprawled out on the couch. Hermione had a foot in Ginny's lap while she painted her nails and they were watching chick flicks on the television. Snack foods and takeout were spread out over the table in front of them as well as beauty products and wine.

"You seriously watched this with Malfoy?" Ginny asked, making a face.

"Yes and he adored it," Hermione revealed.

"Who knew he had such awful taste?"

"Come on, 'Pride and Prejudice' is not a bad film! Or book, might I add."

"It's borish." Ginny laughed at Hermione's offended, green face. They both had on face masks.

"You're borish!" Hermione retorted, scandalized.

"Says the Austen lover!" Ginny tossed a handful of popcorn at her. Hermione's mouth popped open but she didn't retaliate. She merely popped a kernel in her mouth and grinned.

"I really missed you while you were away," she mentioned. Ginny returned her smile.

"Same. I hated how we left things," Ginny finished painting the nails on the one foot and signaled for the next. "Let's agree to not let things escalate so badly anymore,"

"Agreed."

"By the way, how was your date last night?"

"Are you sure you want to hear?" Hermione asked. Ginny gave her an obvious expression. "Okay, okay. It was wonderful. I finally told him about my parents," Ginny blanched.

"Wow. That took a lot of guts, Hermione."

"He understood but was understandably upset."

"About his Dad being involved?"

"Yes. I let him know I didn't hold him to any responsibility for it, though. He seemed to take it at face value," Hermione hoped he hadn't been pretending.

"Did you guys kiss?" Ginny jumped into what she'd deem, 'the good stuff.' Hermione tried to hold back her smile. Ginny caught it and grinned. "Ohhhh! Anything else?"

"We just kissed a bit, nothing too crazy,"

"I'm so happy for you, 'Mione. You deserve this."

The fireplace lit up green and Draco waltzed through looking completely knackered. He took in the sight before him and hesitated.

"Hello," he greeted uncertainly, his lips upturning at the green-faced women.

"Speak of the devil," Ginny murmured.

Hermione panicked a little at her appearance. She tried to cover her masked skin but Draco was next to her in an instant, prying her hands away.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love," He kissed her ear. "You forget, the first night I stayed here your face was green then, too." Hermione blushed, not that anyone could really tell, almost forgetting that suppressed nugget of humiliation. Draco picked an eggroll and proceeded to eat it.

"How was the auction?" Hermione asked. He sat down on the floor next to her feet, his head resting against the arm of the couch.

"Honestly?"

"Why not?" Ginny said.

"It was humiliating." He shoved the rest of the roll in his mouth and got back up, seeming to think better of joining them. "I'm going to turn in. Goodnight," He kissed Hermione on the top of her head and made a speedy exit. After the door clicked closed, Ginny looked over at Hermione with a grimace.

"I should go talk to him, shouldn't I?" Hermione asked, starting to rub the mask off. Ginny nodded. "I'll be right back,"

A minute later, she knocked softly on his door and opened it without waiting for a response. She shut it behind her, cloaking the room in darkness, save for a streetlight outside the window. When she turned, she gasped.

Draco was mid-way through undressing, his shirt off and one of his legs out of his trousers.

"Granger?" He sounded confused. Hermione quickly turned back around and stuttered.

"S-sorry!" Despite how inappropriate it was, she couldn't say she was totally unenthused with what she saw. She turned the knob to leave but before she could, Draco pressed himself up behind her, holding a palm against the door to keep it closed.

"Not so fast," he whispered in her ear. Hermione's breath hitched. Draco pulled her braid aside, draping over her neck, and kissed the soft flesh of the other side. She let her head fall back against his chest while he administered the wet kisses from neck to ear. His body language, while fantastically alluring, seemed tense. His hand clawed at her hip and his breathing seemed off.

Hermione turned around and held his face in both hands.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly. His eyes searched hers. Something was bubbling to the surface but he seemed reluctant to share.

"Just a bad day. Nothing a little time with you won't cure," he rasped out and kissed her mouth, eliciting a small sigh from her before she pulled away again. "Didn't you hear me, Granger? I just want to take my mind off things," he said, frustration in his gravelly voice.

"I can understand that," she stated and ducked back when he tried to kiss her again. "but I think we should talk about it."

"Which part would best entertain you? The fact that I'm considered a penniless outcast or that I'm a worthless piece of rubbish who dishonors the Malfoy name?" He asked viciously. Hermione didn't flinch. She'd had a feeling the other shoe would drop for Draco eventually. Especially after her conversation with Ginny about the ball. She'd predicted how hard it'd be for him. She'd been right.

Hermione flung her arms around his shoulders and held him tightly. He let her, holding her for dear life. They remained like that for a few minutes while she waited for him to process and his temper to ease.

"Are you not deterred from me upon hearing such terrible things?" He asked.

"I've seen you at your very worst, Draco." Hermione pulled back. "You cannot think for one second I could be put off by someone who's apparently an inferior outcast. It wasn't very long ago that I held that exact title. I still do, to some." Draco furrowed his brows and shook his head.

"You were never inferior,"

"That's the point, Draco. None of us really are. We only see ourselves through others. If you let them bully or break you, you'll never be truly yourself. Or happy, for that matter."

"So what you're saying is-"

"Ignore them. Whoever said these hurtful things to you are just a bunch of stuck up, horrid people with nothing better to occupy their time." Hermione smirked. "At least, that's what my parents would say when I'd complain about you." Draco snorted and buried his face into the side of her neck.

"You're too good for me, Granger," he murmured. Hermione leaned her head away and searched his eyes.

"How about no more of that?" She suggested. "I think we've been struggling with superiority and inferiority for far too long, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes." He said simply. "I think we're on very even ground now," He pulled her to him once more and kissed her deeply. Hermione sighed contently. "I like that sound," Draco added and tried to pull her back to the bed.

"Draco," she protested weakly.

"I just want to hold you a little," he said innocently, running his hand down the length of her braid.

"But you're-"

"I'll put pants on," he laughed a little. "It wasn't my fault you barged in here,"

Hermione considered him a moment, appearing sheepish. "Okay," she agreed.

In a swift motion, he had his trousers back on and he sat down next to her on the bed. He fiddled with the end of her braid a moment before asking, "May I?" Hermione nodded and he slipped the hair elastic off the end, letting it roll to his wrist. He started unraveling her hair from the three-columned style so that it flowed freely down past the middle of her back. Running his fingers through the curls sent tingles through her body. She involuntarily shivered and he grinned. He brought a curl that was wrapped around his finger up to his nose and inhaled.

"Lavender," he said. "and lemons." She nodded.

"My shampoo,"

"It's nice,"

"Thank you." She tried not to feel awkward but it was proving difficult when Draco still had no shirt on and he was running his fingers through her hair.

"How are you feeling, Granger? You're trembling a bit,"

"Just a little nervous," she thought honesty would be best. Draco's grin widened.

"Me, too." He revealed. "I'm trying to be patient but you make it hard sometimes,"

"Me?" She asked incredulously, pointing to herself.

"Yes, you. I'm not sure you fully realize the power you have over me,"

"I'd say it's quite the opposite."

"At least we both know we're feeling the same things," he chuckled. His hand ran down her hair once more before resting on her lower back. They were sitting flush against one another, thigh to thigh. He was leaning so far in that Hermione felt she had no room to breathe properly.

"Yes, at least there's that," she said all breathy.

Draco closed the distance. Their lips meeting and parting in long, languid motions. He wanted to make the moment last, treasuring every curve and small sound she'd make. Her lips were soft and tasted sweet from whatever she'd been snacking on earlier. It made him even hungrier for her.

How could this beautiful creature before him choose to remain by his side after everything they'd been through? It wasn't many years back that he'd teased and tormented her to his hearts' content. Now he couldn't stand the thought of losing her. To even take her to the ball tomorrow and share her with a room full of purebloods and Death Eaters was becoming uncomfortable. It made him want to rescind the invitation altogether.

He couldn't do that, though; he needed her by his side. He wouldn't get through that ruddy event without her. And besides, she and Ginny seemed pretty excitable about it now, if the sight upon his entering the house was any indication. Female grooming for such things was usually drawn out and ritual. He didn't want to spoil all their fun. He hoped for all their sake's that tomorrow went smoothly and without any drama.

"Draco? Are you still with me?" Hermione asked between kisses.

"Always, love." He said before kissing her once more.


	30. Anxiety

"Molly is this really necessary...?"

Hermione sat in one of the bar stools in the kitchen. Ginny and Molly were working on her hair and makeup.

"Once the boys heard you'd be going with Draco, they insisted upon going. We all have invitations, after all." Molly said.

Molly had sprung the news of the Weasley clan attending the ball when she'd arrived earlier that morning. The boys had all expressed their worries not only about Hermione going but on finding out she and Draco were officially dating. George seemed fine with the dating aspect. The others not so much. They'd all gotten along with him quite pleasantly until this point. She had a feeling that they were just being overprotective; like the older brothers she never had.

"Besides, we want to be there to support Draco. He puts on a brave face but I couldn't imagine turning over our family home to someone else," Molly said. "What would his mother say?"

"From what he says about her, she'd probably be thrilled. By the end of her life, she was not very grateful to be a Malfoy." Ginny said.

Hermione grimaced. The thought of Narcissa Malfoy being stuck as a prisoner of Malfoy Manor for the last years of her life while she was sick and dying made her heartache. Despite how upsetting it must be to rid yourself of a whole heritage, she imagined Draco must feel somewhat relieved. Who'd want to keep going back to the place where your mother died? Where Voldemort's headquarters were? Where many lives were taken and tons of people were tortured and imprisoned?

Where _she_ was tortured.

An involuntary shiver went through her body.

"I'm not sure if I should even go," Hermione's overactive brain could get her in trouble sometimes. And her anxiety made the over thinking worse.

"What?" Ginny lowered the makeup brush she'd been using and searched her best friends' face.

"I've just... I've been thinking that-"

"No," Ginny said sternly. "You already told Draco you'd go. We could already tell last night that he'd had a really hard time at that auction. You can't just skip out on him now."

"Ginny, I-"

"I'm still going even though I know Theo will be there. My friendship with Draco is more important than my pride."

"This isn't about pride. I'm just going over all the things that have happened any time I've been in that house. I'm terrified," Hermione shook her head.

"I know, Hermione." Ginny grabbed her hands and squeezed. "But you can do this. We will all be there to have your back. Both of your backs."

"Ginny's right, dear. There's strength in numbers. And family." Molly added and continued to brush a potion through Hermione's hair.

The reassurance they tried to give was somewhat comforting, in its own way, but they hadn't been at the Manor that night. They had no idea how it felt to step foot in the place where all your worst nightmares stemmed.

"Can you send for Harry and Ron?" Hermione asked. Ginny stilled, the brush she was holding lowered again.

"'Mione..."

"Please," she urged. "I know Harry is the last person you want to see right now but it might help me talk myself into going if I had their input."

"You know Ron will just tell you not to go," Ginny stated.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I'll send word. Where's Winnie, dear?" Molly offered.

"She's probably in the willow tree out back. The pellets are on the little table by the back door." Hermione pointed.

"I'll be right back," Molly scurried away to a writing desk on the other side of the house to write the letters. Molly, along with many other witches and wizards, still didn't use the new magic improved cell phone technology. Ron didn't even have one yet, as far as she knew. It didn't matter much, though. Owls were still highly effective.

Around half past six, Harry and Ron apparated to her front porch and rang the bell. They'd gotten off work and changed for the ball before heading over. They were dressed to the nines when Molly answered the door.

"Mum?" Ron asked. She moved to let them in.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry pecked her on the cheek as he walked by. Ron followed suit.

"You boys sure look dashing." She noted. "Listen, I have to head out now so tell the girls I'll see them at the ball. I have to drop by the house to make sure Percy has everything for tonight."

"I just dropped off Teddy. He seemed alright," Harry mentioned.

"I'd like to double check, just the same." She patted him on the cheek.

"What're you even doing here?" Ron asked.

"I helped the girls get ready," she replied, smiling wide. "They look a real treat. Make sure to let them know." And with that, she left the house and disapparated away.

The house seemed a little too quiet. Harry looked towards the stairs and then back at Ron, asking him silently if they should go up.

"I don't know, mate. Girls are strange." Ron shrugged.

"Not that strange," Ginny's voice floated down the staircase as her heels clicked on the first few steps.

Harry turned and gawked openly as the beautiful creature before him seemed to float down the steps in a large, emerald ballgown. It had small pickups here and there and some sort of floral design he couldn't quite make out from the distance. It was strapless, showing off her luminous, cream-colored shoulders. She held up the front so she wouldn't trip, showing off a pair of strappy, silver heels. Her usually long, ginger locks were pulled up in a smooth up-do. Silver earrings dangled from her ears, catching the light. Before Harry could say anything, Ginny started talking to Ron.

"Hermione's upstairs. She really needs you guys to talk her into going to this thing," she said. "And before you ever _try_ to talk her out of it, Ron, you better start thinking of what's best for her and not yourself!" She snapped as Ron opened his mouth, looking ready to protest. Her brother pouted a moment, not seeming to like the idea, but nodded in defeat as Ginny glared him down.

"Is she alright?" Harry asked, not sure if she'd answer him. She hadn't looked his way once.

"Yes. A bit rattled about the locale, though, if you understand my meaning," she said, still unable to look him in the eye. Harry started forward and Ron followed suit.

The boys made their way up the wooden steps and paused before Hermione's closed door. Harry knocked gently.

"Come in," her voice muffled through the door. Harry turned the knob and entered. She wasn't in the main room. He guessed she was doing final touches in the bathroom. The tiny door was open a crack, revealing her reflection in the mirror. She was applying lip color but she seemed off, somehow. Her eyes had worried lines between her brows and she didn't appear very happy. She snapped the lipstick shut and slowly opened the door.

Ron audibly gasped.

"'Mione," his mouth practically hung open. "you look amazing!"

Harry had to agree. The gold, form-fitting dress she wore put her Yule Ball gown to shame. It hugged her curves and just barely brushed the floor. The lip color she wore was a dark cherry red. It made her teeth look white and beautiful as she smiled half-heartedly.

"Thanks, Ron," she said. "I'm glad you guys could stop by before..." she looked back down at her hands, which had a couple of gold bands on her right middle finger. She was wringing them together and fiddling with the rings by turning them over and over.

"Ginny mentioned you wanted to talk with us?" Harry leaned over and lightly pecked her cheek. "We're here for whatever you need,"

"Yeah, we're mates, after all," Ron smiled fondly at her. She nodded and took a deep, cleansing breath.

"I was talking to Ginny earlier about how I might not go," she said.

"Because of where it's being held?" Ron asked, his tone implicating he felt the same way. Hermione nodded again. "We were told not to talk you out of going," he added. Hermione scoffed, shaking her head with mild amusement.

"Ginny, so meddlesome."

"She is a handful, my sister. But maybe she has a small point." Ron shrugged.

"I agree. I think you need to face down your demons, 'Mione." Harry said bluntly. Hermione gave him a wary look.

"I tried that and look where it got me; sexual harassment charges from Latif!"

"This is sort of different, 'Mione. You'll be in a room full of people. This thing is supposed to be widely publicized. There won't just be purebloods there. Celebrities, moguls, high society, everyone high-brow you can think of from the auction will attend." Harry said. "There's even a private Auror detail undercover there."

That was news to Hermione. "There is?"

"Yes. These sort of things always have a ton of security. Especially for pureblood manor homes. They're worth a ton and the inhabitants always insist on it." Ron said, rolling his eyes. "It's all a little too much for me, to be honest. Lav, too."

"Where _is_ Lavender?" Hermione asked.

"Last night was the full moon. She's recuperating." He said regretfully. "But that's alright. It gave me the opportunity to take my best mate," he slapped Harry's back good-naturedly. Harry grimaced.

"I had my own invitation," Harry pointed out. "You just didn't want to go stag." Hermione's brows furrowed.

"You had your own invite?"

"Well he's still somewhat of a celebrity, isn't he?" Ron reminded her. Harry gave them the same wary look he always did when someone tried to call him famous or treat him as more than what he was. All these years later and it still made him uncomfortable.

"The bottom line is still this: you should definitely go to this thing. Show everyone how strong you are. You'll probably have too much of a good time to notice the location after a while," Harry suggested.

"I doubt that," she rolled her eyes.

"Well maybe not, but still, you made a promise to Malfoy, right?"

"I still think it's beyond nuts that you two are dating but Harry has a point. The bloke looked bloody awful at that auction yesterday," Ron revealed.

"You guys were there?"

"On duty. I'm officially reinstated," Ron said proudly. "We did security there yesterday so we could attend the ball today,"

"And Draco looked bad?" Hermione's heart dropped.

"The guy is pale normally, but by the end, he was white as a ghost. Almost gray, really." Ron said.

"When they sold his mother's pearls? He had to step outside," Harry looked honestly sad for the guy. Hermione felt moisture start to form at her waterline.

"'Mione, your makeup," Harry didn't know much about women. But he did know one thing: makeup took a long time to apply and girls often felt terrible if they had to redo it. He pulled a white handkerchief out of his breast pocket and dabbed the inner corners of her eyes, catching the tears before they could escape down her cheeks.

"Who bought the pearls?" She asked. Ron and Harry exchanged uncomfortable glances. "Tell me," she insisted.

"Pansy Parkinson," Harry said slowly. They were all exchanging the look now. The last time any of them had seen the bitch witch, Hermione had sent her sailing into the next door neighbor's yard.

"I'm going to ask for them back," Hermione proclaimed.

"They sold for a lot, Hermione," Ron said. "A small fortune, really,"

"I don't care. I'll appeal to her. She must know how close Draco was with his mother,"

"I don't think she'll care, 'Mione," Harry pointed out.

"I have to try."

The three looked at one another in silence for a moment.

"So I guess you're going, then?" Harry asked after a beat. "We didn't even need to coax you. You talked yourself into it,"

"I suppose I did," Hermione realized.

"She's on a mission, now. You know how she gets," Ron chuckled. "Same old Hermione."

"I just... want to do this. For Draco," she said.

"Speaking of, where is the ferret?"

"Ron," Hermione warned.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, clearly not even close to being actually apologetic.

"He had some catching up to do at Olympus from his half day yesterday. He should be home soon,"

"Home?" Harry asked.

"He does live here," Hermione said factually. "It is his home."

"I thought he was just staying a little while?"

"He can stay as long as he'd like," Hermione stated frostily.

"So he's moving in here, is he?" Ron asked, clearly close to losing his temper. He was still entirely weirded out by her and Draco dating. She could understand his reservations, a bit, but wished he'd get over it soon.

"We're taking it a day at a time. He's been through a lot," she said.

"Well so have you!" he countered. "And because of him, I might add!"

"That was a long time ago," Hermione tried to reason with him. "Draco has been a different man for longer than you even know, Ron. Please behave yourself tonight. For his sake," Ron's look could kill. "Okay, then for me?" She tried. A moment passed before he softened considerably.

"Fine,"

"Good. Let's go down and have a drink before we leave," she suggested, thinking alcohol might help the situation. Ron left the room first, clomping down the stairs. Hermione touched Harry's elbow. He turned and held it out further for her to grab hold of. Her heels were higher than she would have liked but that's what happened when you let an adventurous ginger dress you.

"Are you going to be okay tonight?" She asked him in a whisper as they descended the stairs.

"Me?" He asked, confused.

"You know, about being around Ginny. I heard she went to see you," Harry schooled his features into a cool mask of nonchalance.

"We'll talk later. Right now I'm fine." But Hermione didn't believe him for a second. They reached the main floor and Hermione broke off towards the fridge.

"Wine, anyone?" A resounding yes came from the living room, where Ginny was sitting on the couch texting. Ron sat down next to her and proceeded to ask questions about the device. Harry stood to the side, looking into the fire. Hermione worked a cork off a fresh bottle of white wine and poured everyone a glass. She levitated Ron's and Ginny's over and walked Harry his.

"I remember this day," Harry pointed to one of the pictures on the mantle. "The day you graduated Hogwarts," Hermione beamed up at him.

"I made my dream come true," she said. "I graduated top of my class."

"Not many returned so I'm not sure if that's saying much," Ron barked out a laugh and the others joined in. Even Hermione joined in.

"Still, I did it."

"We never had any doubts," Ginny said. "You're the most well-read person we know."

"That doesn't always translate into good grades!" Hermione argued.

"No, but studying does. You practically lived in the library!" Ron said. That sparked a reminder for her and she grinned like a fool.

"What's that face for?" Ginny asked coyly.

"Just remembering," she said. "Draco told me he realized he liked me back in fourth year, when he'd frequently see me in the library,"

"I find that hard to believe," Harry said. "He still bullied you,"

"He wasn't taught another way, Harry." Hermione snapped. "And besides, I'm sure it wasn't easy for him to have those feelings after he was raised by people who never showed him how to properly care for someone."

"Here, here," Ginny raised her glass a little and took a pull.

"He seems to be doing just fine now, it seems," Ron said sourly. "I mean, you guys _were_ in bed together the other night,"

"Ronald," Hermione chastised, feeling her face flush at his insinuation.

"Come on, I don't want to hear about you and Malfoy doing... _that_." Harry said in a disgusted tone. He took his glasses off and rubbed a hand down his face.

"You guys lay off," Ginny said. "It's not like that... yet." she winked at Hermione. The brunette blushed further and took a long drag of her wine.

The sound of apparation came from the front yard. A second later Draco walked through the door. He was already in his dress robes, looking quite dapper. His hair was slicked back out of his eyes, the ends curling around his ears, with a timepiece chain catching the light, it's inhabitant resting safely in the vest pocket. He looked every bit what a pureblood family dreamt of for their descendants.

Draco's eyes swept over the visitors first before landing on Hermione. He hesitated, setting his work bag down by the entrance.

"Granger, you look smashing," he said softly, a smirk forming on his lips. There was an intensity that lingered behind his eyes. And a satisfaction, almost, like a cat eating a canary. Hermione felt herself full-on flush under his scrutiny and had to turn away.

"Thank you," she said shyly. Ron made a gagging noise. Ginny smacked him lightly on the lapel.

"Are we all ready to go, then?" He asked the room, seeming to not care an ounce that they'd heard him complimenting her. Everyone murmured yes and began grabbing up jackets and purses.

"Wait, Hermione... a gift from Charlotte," Draco lifted up a garment bag he had draped over his arm. Hermione strode over, her heels clicking as she went.

"A gift?" She asked, still feeling shy. "It's not my birthday,"

"I think she wanted to apologize and make up for not being forthcoming about me being your potential publisher," he guessed. "She insisted you wear it tonight."

"Wear?" Now Hermione was truly curious. She saw an envelope peeking out from a fold in the bag and turned it over, opening the flap and pulling out the small card inside.

Charlotte's tiny, cramped handwriting sprung up from the stark-white card in pink ink.

 _Hermione-_

 _I noticed you eying mine more than once. I had this made for you from 100% cruelty-free means. I got your dress color from Ginny so I know it will go! Thank you for taking a chance on me as an editor. I know when your book goes to print it'll be a smash!_

 _Adoringly yours,_

 _Charlotte Bradford_

Hermione handed the card to Draco and unzipped the garment bag carefully.

Inside was a beautiful, shoulder-length capelet made from hundreds of gorgeous Eagle Owl feathers. The longer feathers towards the bottom had matching, horizontal striping while others further up were dappled with brown and white spots. All the feathers were various hues of tans, browns, creams and the striping was chocolate colored. There was a single, small hook and eyelet made of black metal so you could fasten it around your neck easily.

Hermione blanched.

Sure, she'd admired Charlotte's pink flamingo jacket many times. She adored the editors' style and grace to pull off something so outrageously excessive.

Hermione wearing something of that caliber, though? She wasn't sure she was equal to the task.

"Charlotte really outdid herself," Ginny gushed. She and the others had finished getting ready and were all standing behind Hermione, now. Ginny touched the delicate feathers and shot a shit-eating grin to her shocked friend. "Put it on-"

"Oh no, I couldn't-" Hermione sputtered.

"Yes, you can. Turn around, Granger," Draco instructed. He hung the garment bag and carefully extracted the capelet. He unhooked it and held it out to her expectantly. Hermione hesitated before doing as he said, turning on the spot and holding still as he draped it over her shoulders.

The feathers tickled over her exposed shoulders and arms.

Draco came around to her front and managed to hook it together. Then he pulled her long, cascading hair, which she'd had straightened for once, out from under the capelet and settled it to one side of her face, letting his fingers wander at the ends so he could appreciate them further.

"Really, Granger, you look divine," Draco kissed her jawline and then held out his elbow. "Shall we?"

Hermione took in a steadying breath.

"Yes," she said.

"Let's get going, already," Ron barked out. Ginny took his arm and squeezed extra tight.

"Behave yourself tonight or I'll tell everyone what Mum used to do to you before I was born," Ginny whispered harshly in his ear as the group took the small steps into the yard. Ron shot her a look of hatred.

"You wouldn't-?"

"Oh, I would," Ginny threatened. The siblings said nothing more to one another.

Hermione wasn't sure if they'd intended to be heard or not; she was suppressing a large grin, already knowing the secret from all her years growing up with the Weasley's.

"I'd really like to know what has Weasley so scared," Draco murmured to her. Hermione put a finger to his mouth to silence him and grinned when he gasped slightly. "You know!"

"Later," she whispered back. Draco nodded and then faced forward, concentrating.

"The wards allow visitors to apparate to the front gates, not inside. From there we'll all be let in manually from guards at the entrance." Draco informed so they'd all know what to picture for apparating. They all understood and closed their eyes.

A second later, they'd popped in front of the gates belonging to Malfoy Manor.

"Bloody fantastic," Ron muttered. Hermione looked back at him. Harry also met her eyes and they all paused a beat.

The last time they'd all been there together, they'd barely escaped with their lives.

Understanding and sympathy was the feeling Hermione got from their expressions.

Draco and Ginny gave them a minute while they readied themselves.

"It's just another house now," Harry said finally. "Voldemort and Bellatrix have been gone a long time."

"And yet, it was like yesterday," Draco mentioned quietly. "Come on, let's go,"


	31. The Convoluted Malfoy Name

**Thank you all for being so incredibly patient with me for the last few weeks! A lot of changes have been happening in my household and I've been trying to write but I barely have a spare moment. Things are settling, though, so I hope my updates will be more regular soon! Please enjoy this extra long chapter! xoxox**

Groups and couples were apparating all around them. Some showed up in fancy sports vehicles, others in drawn carriages.

As Draco led them through the throng of guests, people parted and whispered frantically. Hermione tried to just look ahead but her attention wavered as she heard her name mentioned over and over again. Harry's and Ginny's names seemed to come up constantly, too. But Draco's name was the most spoken, though. It seemed everyone had been awaiting the arrival of the guest of honor. She held her head high and looked forward. Draco did the same.

"It's a bloody zoo," Ron mumbled grumpily.

"It always feels like this," Harry sounded just as disgruntled by the attention.

"Mr. Malfoy," a tall, beefy man inclined his head as they arrived at the gate. He seemed to be manning it and checking names off a list. "Go right ahead, sir," Draco nodded back as they were allowed through. The man checked the rest of their groups' names and then they all walked the driveway to the house in silence.

Draco led them a different way; he veered off towards the gardens which were alight with floating orbs that bathed the shrubs and lawns in a soft glow.

"The entrance to the ballroom is through the gardens," Draco explained at Hermione's confused expression.

The entire walkway created to act as a path to the ballroom was strewn with white flower petals.

"Who planned this?" Ginny asked.

"A lot of the detailing is Malfoy protocol when guests come calling. But the actual event staff for it were funded by the purchaser." Draco sounded off. Not quite bitter or angry but just... not himself.

"Draco, you didn't mention who bought the estate," Hermione said slowly as they rounded a corner and could finally see a pair of french doors flung open that led into the house. Orange light streamed out of it, illuminating the path further.

"Yes, well, we haven't talked much about what happened here yesterday," Draco blew out a breath. "It was Madame Pearlman who purchased Malfoy Manor,"

Hermione halted her steps a moment, preventing Draco from going any further.

"Draco-"

"I don't want to dwell on it any more than I have to, Granger,"

"But-"

Draco placed his fingertips against her lips.

"Please." He whispered. "I need to be strong for this. Help me be strong, Hermione,"

Hermione registered his desperation. Brown eyes linked with gray ones as they both came to a silent understanding.

 _Not now. Later._

She nodded and, like a trance that was broken, they both continued on as if nothing happened. The others had waited for them off to the side of the entrance.

"You lot ready for this?" He asked everyone.

"As we'll ever be," Harry replied.

"Maybe it'll be unexpectedly fun!" Ginny said, sounding more positive than even she thought possible.

Ron scoffed. "Not bloody likely,"

"What about you, love?" Draco asked. Hermione linked her fingers through his and squeezed, feeling his ring there.

"Yes." She tried sounding confident. It seemed to work because despite the anxious energy Draco was emitting, he visibly relaxed at her touch and tone of voice. She kissed him on the cheek and they entered into Malfoy Manor.

...

The ballroom was, in a word, grand. But that word didn't quite sum up how truly beautiful everything was.

Wide rimmed glasses refilled with champagne and hors d'oeuvres replenished immediately as soon as something was grabbed off of the trays the waitstaff that flitted around the room carried. The chandelier was the largest Hermione had ever seen, seeming to span the length of the dance floor in the center. It had thousands of crystals that glinted and gleamed in the light of the sea of candles floating above, casting rainbow gleams all about. Along the rim of the ceiling sat hundreds of carved marble statues. Cherubs, saint-like beings, unicorns, etc were an attentive audience to the goings-on below.

The dozens of tables that sat below were set with cream and emerald table cloths and runners. They held enormous floral arrangements in their center. The tableware was all silver, including the plates and wine goblets.

The floors, made of white and gray marbling, were polished and almost reflected the inhabitants of the room.

Classical instrumentals filled the room as a string ensemble played in the mezzanine level above. Out of sight for anyone to see. There was a double staircase that led to the upper levels that were covered in tiny lights that twinkled. Straight above on the back wall was a large crest adorning a great, silver shield; a large M in the center with two snakes on either side. That same insignia also adorned Draco's ring. Hermione surmised it to be the Malfoy crest.

Half the ballroom was filled already with witches and wizards dressed in their most extravagant wears. The men all looked dashing in different types of suits, tuxedos, and even more traditional dress robes, while the women were dripping in diamonds, furs, and elegant gowns.

Hermione thought she might be overdressed in her silk and feathers despite the preparation Ginny had given her on what the evening might look like. On the contrary, she fit right in. Not ever feeling quite that way before in any circumstance, she felt a small moment of reprieve from the anxiety attack she had been suppressing all day.

"Breathe, Granger," Draco muttered as they weaved their way to the table that was apparently assigned to them, according to Ginny who discovered table numbers on each one as she thumbed through the stack of tickets.

"I'm processing," Hermione replied. They stopped at a table to the right of one of the staircases and Draco pulled out a chair for her. She sat as gracefully as she could muster and tried to acclimate to her surroundings.

Her name was scrawled on a tiny place card. She looked over to see Ginny's and Ron's names on either side of her. Harry's was on the other side of Ginny's, much to his chagrin. But Draco was apparently seated elsewhere.

"Yours was on the bottom. I just realized-" Ginny started apologetically but Draco cut her off.

"I told them to arrange this," he seethed. "I'll be right back." Draco set off at a quick pace to a throng of witches in smart-looking uniforms. He was stopped a few times to be greeted by someone or another.

Harry confirmed that the other Weasley's name cards were at their table, too. Hermione was glad, for once, that Molly decided to meddle. She wasn't so sure at first if it'd be such a great idea for the others to come. Even though they were purebloods, the Weasley's were often referred to as blood traitors. She wouldn't stand for it if someone were rude to them.

"Good evening," A rich voice drawled slightly. Hermione looked over her shoulder.

"Blaise, hi," Ginny greeted friendily. "I wasn't sure you'd be in town for this,"

"Yes, well, I'm obligated to show up at these sort of things." He shrugged, seeming indifferent. "I mainly wanted to come over and express my condolences about you and Theo,"

Ginny looked instantly uncomfortable. "Thank you," she said shortly, avoiding Harry's curious expression.

"So you're with Potter, now?" Blaise asked, sounding bored.

"Did Theo send you over here?" Hermione speculated. She leaned around the tall, dark and handsome man and sure enough, Theo was scoping out the discussion from across the ballroom, looking surly.

"Not really," Blaise shrugged. "But I, myself, wondered if he wasn't making up scenarios. Theo can be... dramatic... when he wants to be,"

"Well his reasoning for breaking up was sound," Ginny said boldly. Harry blanched and Hermione cringed slightly, feeling sorry for poor Theo, despite wanting Ginny and Harry to make it work. Over the year Ginny and the handsome wizard were together, Theo had always been kind and supportive of Hermione. Especially her writing. Even in the beginning, when she hadn't been so sure of him.

Hermione stood.

"I'm going to say hello," she informed the group.

"I think Draco's coming back," Ginny mentioned.

"Tell him I'll be back," Hermione stood and made off at a leisurely pace, hoping she wouldn't trip and make a spectacle of herself. She tried not to look at any one witch or wizard too long as she wove in and out of the throngs of people.

Theo spotted her and met her halfway. As he walked over, he grabbed two glasses of champagne off a passing tray and held one out to her.

"Granger, you look lovely this evening," he said, laying on the typical Nott charm. The spark in his eyes wasn't quite there, though.

"You're looking quite handsome, yourself," She returned.

"Nah, this is last years fashion," he gestured to his suit. "I'm sure I'll receive loads of crap about it from Pansy."

"Ah. Is she here yet?" Hermione asked, scanning the room and hoping she'd see the awful witch soon so they could discuss business about the pearls.

"Not that I'm aware of," Theo looked around, too, then shrugged. "I'm surprised you're even interested in her whereabouts,"

"I have something to discuss with her," Hermione said distractedly as she continued scanning the room.

"I hope it's not an apology about that party," Theo laughed. "because for one, she won't take you seriously, and two, she doesn't really deserve it. She wasn't being the best house guest."

"It's definitely not an apology," Hermione laughed at the thought and Theo grinned.

"Always so outspoken; that's why I like you, Granger. You can be a bit too honest and occasionally biased at times, but you get to the point. Bluntness is very admirable, in my book."

"I'm trying to be better about my biases if you haven't noticed,"

"I have," Theo smiled and shook his head in disbelief. "Who would have thought the great Hermione Granger would ever take up with Draco Malfoy? It's true, then? You lot are dating now?" Hermione felt herself blush and tried to hold back her smile.

"Yes, it's quite true," she replied.

"And looking happy, I see. You're glowing, Granger," Theo pointed out.

"That wouldn't have anything to do with her dress, would it?" Draco's voice said behind her. She smiled over her shoulder. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "I was about to fetch us drinks but I see Theo beat me to it,"

"Stop being such a lazy date and I wouldn't have to," Theo joked. Draco laughed and clapped Theo on his bicep.

"Did you fix our conundrum?" Hermione asked. Draco went from jovial to annoyed.

"Sort of,"

"Tell me,"

"You have two choices. You can sit with the gaggle of Weasley's over there," he pointed behind himself with his thumb to the full table beyond. "or ditch them and come sit at the table they assigned us to."

"What do you mean? Do I have two assigned seats?"

"What's this about?" Theo asked.

"Pearlman provided two different options for Hermione's seating choice." Draco spat. "Probably some sort of sick joke or test,"

"Well regardless, I'm sitting with you," Hermione said firmly.

"You don't even know who else is at our table," Draco mentioned.

"It doesn't matter. Tonight is about you," she insisted, kissing him under his jawline. She double checked the place she kissed him in case her lipstick transferred there. Luckily, the non-transferrable formula she'd purchased seemed to be doing its job. But as someone who rarely wore such bold colors, she wanted to be extra sure. Draco blushed at the public display of affection and dug his fingers into her waist.

"Thank you, love," he said sincerely.

"Knowing how conniving that woman is, she probably sat us all together at her table," Theo said, pulling out his invite. Sure enough, he was also seated at the same table.

"Well, let's all congregate to table one, I suppose," Draco said glumly.

They passed by the Weasley's table first, which was table fifty-three, incidentally, and considered a bad table, according to Theo.

"We're seated elsewhere," Hermione explained to the table as they walked up. Molly and Arthur had arrived as well as Charlie and George. Bill and Fleur had yet to show.

Molly nodded. "I thought as much. You go, we'll see you on the dancefloor in a bit,"

"Indeed! We still know how to shake a leg or two," Arthur grinned at his wife, who giggled like a school girl.

"Yuck," Ron said but he was smiling.

"Be careful, won't you?" Harry said leaning into Hermione's ear. She nodded.

"I'll take good care of her, Potter," Draco said seriously and led her away.

"They're a happy bunch tonight," Theo mentioned after a few steps. "Despite Ginny, of course"

"Theo," Hermione said sadly. "Just leave it alone. None of you are happy in this scenario."

"Not even Potter?" He asked, trying not to sound desperate for knowledge on the subject.

"No," Hermione confirmed. Draco looked at her questioningly. "Ginny told me she went to speak with Harry but he booted her out." She eluded. Draco exchanged a worried look with Theo.

"Potter was never an intelligent bloke though, was he?" Theo said bitterly.

"Hey, now," Hermione stopped short of their table, which was still empty. She rounded on Theo. "You have to know by now what sort of situation they've got going on. Harry isn't just deciding his own life's course, he's looking out for Teddy's, too. Either way, it's not for us to have an opinion about his choices. Or intelligence, for that matter. Because honestly, Harry's brain isn't measurable. It's quite fifty-fifty."

Theo and Draco laughed, the tension broken. Harry was never widely known like she was for his smarts but he was quite clever and knowledgeable about a great deal. He had to be in order to be a Senior Auror. That aside, he gave Hermione way too much credit for solving the hurdles presented to them back at Hogwarts. He'd always been way more intelligent than anyone gave him credit for, he just wasn't too good at knowing how to apply it accordingly sometimes. And on a lot of matters, he could be completely clueless and ignorant. Hence why she thought of his mind as fifty-fifty. It was her own little joke about her best friend. One that he'd agreed with many times.

Draco pulled out a chair for her once more and she shucked off her capelette and took a seat. Draco grabbed it for her and draped it on the back of her chair. After walking the ballroom once, she felt surer of her movements and tried to be confident. Draco sat on her right and Theo was on her left. This table wasn't round like the rest, but long and rectangular with at least a dozen or so place cards.

"Pearlman is at the head, of course," Theo mentioned under his breath. "Leave it to her to run your face further into her purchasing your family home."

"It's fine, Theo," Draco took a swig of Hermione's champagne. "Let her parade herself and her status. I don't care,"

"Draco!" A vibrant voice said excitedly. They all turned and saw Astoria walking up. She was a knockout in her bright red dress and black stiletto heels. Her lipstick matched her dress and she had long, black lashes that looked thick enough to kick up a stiff wind. On her arm was a tall, dark-haired wizard that almost towered over her, even in her shoes. He was clean shaven and had a dimple in his chin. He looked impeccable in a tailored tuxedo and shiny, black dress shoes.

Draco stood to greet them. He gave Astoria a kiss on the cheek and shook the wizard's hand.

"Thank Merlin you're here," Theo said. He didn't get up but shook the man's hand as well and nodded to Astoria.

"Hermione, nice to see you again!" Astoria said, sounding genuine enough, as she took stock of her appearance. "You look lovely this evening,"

Hermione stood and extended her hand to her in a civil gesture.

"Your dress is so beautiful, Astoria," she mentioned. "like it was made for you."

"I should 'ope so!" The man said in a thick French accent. "I feeneeshed eet just last night! Zis one ees a perfectionniste!" he pointed to Astoria who smiled indulgently.

"C'est magnifique, monsieur," Hermione praised the man. He seemed appeased by the compliment and bowed his head slightly.

"Hermione, this is my dear friend and talented designer, Maxence Royer." Astoria formally introduced.

"Pleasure, mademoiselle," Maxence kissed the top of Hermione's hand.

"Likewise," Hermione smiled.

"Are you up here, as well?" Draco asked.

"Of course. You think Madame Pearlman would seat her favorites anywhere else?" Astoria asked as she rolled her eyes. Everyone so far seemed exasperated by the elder witches demands and she wasn't even present yet.

"There's no accounting for taste, I suppose," a high-pitched, female voice said.

"Still sour as ever, I see," Astoria retorted without a beat, a definite look of distaste on her face. "You never change, do you Pansy?"

"Not as much as you, dear," Pansy replied just as quickly, tapping her finger to the side of her nose as if implying the other girl had work done to her face. Astoria didn't seem phased. It was clear that these two sparred verbally with the best of them. Coming into her line of sight, Hermione noticed Pansy's dress was a fuschia pink ballgown that had several crystals on the bodice. It was completely over the top but Hermione suspected that was on purpose. The thing must have costed her a fortune.

"Can't we get through one fucking event without a catfight?" Theo asked.

"Apparently not," Draco sighed. He took his seat once more while Maxence pulled Astoria's seat out for her on Draco's other side.

"Won't you get mine, too, Max?" Pansy simpered. The designer cocked an eyebrow.

"Eef you require asseestance, you should ask your beau." He said, a definite snark to his tone. Astoria snorted. Pansy's face felt for a fraction of a second but perked right up.

"Oh, of course. But have you all met yet?" Pansy had the look of trouble about her. Her eyes shifted above their heads to someone who she recognized. She waved them over. "Darling, I want you to meet my friends,"

Hermione choked on the champagne she was now guzzling to avoid the whole encounter as Latif Geraard came into view and stood next to Pansy. He kissed her on the lips dispassionately and then turned to the others. Hermione had Draco's hand in a death grip under the table. He shifted uncomfortably but said nothing as he regarded Latif with a cool, albeit, deathly glare.

"I believe I've already met some of you. Hello Draco, Hermione," he sounded like a world-class gentleman; you'd never guess at the slimeball he truly was by how he was acting.

When neither of them responded to Latif's cordial greeting, he turned to the others as Pansy introduced everyone.

"I had no idea you were dating again, Pans," Theo remarked, trying to steer the conversation.

"You had your chance, Nott, don't go feeling sorry for yourself," Pansy laughed. No one else found her very humorous, though. Theo least of all. Before he could argue, though, a few other witches and wizards walked up to chat with Pansy and Latif, sidetracking the conversation.

" _What_ is he doing here?" Hermione whispered to Draco. He leaned over to respond.

"As Pearlman's nephew, he's required to be at these sort of things, just like the rest of us." He whispered back. Draco turned his attention back to Maxence, who was prattling on about the price of fabrics in London being way too high. Hermione clicked her tongue but remained silent, opting to drink more of her champagne instead.

She took in the table of witches and wizards that were considered the elite of the wizarding world. Some people she recognized from the Prophet, others she'd only heard about. This table was chock-full of people who'd been a supporter or sympathizer for Voldemort. A fact which made her feel even more uncomfortably out of place. Shifting in her seat, she set down her empty glass and started to fiddle with the rings on her fingers.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked after a few moments. Someone spoke before she could answer.

"Hey mate," Blaise joined the table and clapped Theo on the back before sitting down beside him conspiratorially, shielding something between their bodies.

"Thank fuck," Theo murmured as Blaise handed him something. Draco leaned across Hermione and raised his eyebrows.

"Please tell me you're not plotting some extravagant prank," Draco said quietly. His friends looked confused and about to argue but Draco cracked a smile. "not without me, at least. Did Weasley make something?"

"Yes, actually." Blaise smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. "Here," he handed Draco a flask.

"You know Pearlman won't have any decent liquor here tonight," Theo commented. Draco unscrewed the lid and leaned his nose over the opening to smell it. His head jerked back.

"I can smell that from here," Astoria whispered loudly. Draco shook his head and handed it back without sampling it.

"I promised Granger a good time. I can't get sloshed tonight," he vowed.

"A sip won't hurt," Hermione suggested. She wanted Draco to make the most of the night. It could be his last in his ancestral home, after all.

"It's okay, love," he said but Hermione could tell he wanted to let loose. And honestly, she did, too. She didn't drink much and, when she did, it was always wine or champagne so she never really felt anything more than a small buzz. Tonight she felt like she could really use a distraction, though. She nonchalantly took the flask from Theo, unscrewed the lid, and took a tiny sip. Her mouth turned down, instantly puckering at the vile concoction. Blaise, Theo, and Astoria all laughed and Draco looked at her with admiration.

"Well, if you insist," he smiled and took a swig. He made a similar face and coughed. "That's disgusting!"

"Only the best from George Weasley," Blaise waggled his eyebrows. The others all took a turn trying the brew and all coming to the same conclusion that, although it was completely disgusting, it was doing the trick to get them all feeling warm and relaxed.

"George said the potency would be enough to get you tipsy with one sip. He wasn't wrong!" Theo laughed.

They were all carrying on laughing and joking, the flask already forgotten in Blaise's inner pocket, as their table filled with the more prominent members of sacred twenty-eight families. Draco was reminiscing about Ron vomiting slugs in second year and although Hermione fought laughing, at first, she couldn't help but join in from Astoria's reactions on first hearing of it.

"You guys, we really shouldn't laugh. It was horrendous," Hermione blotted the outer corner of her eye as a tear escaped. She was still chortling.

"It's long in the past, Granger. None of us give a rip about those old prejudices now," Theo said. "It's just a funny story we can all laugh about for years to come."

They recounted a few more stories of crazy mishaps and fun times at Hogwarts before the candlelight magically dimmed and the ballroom began to hush as people took their seats.

A spotlight shone at the top of the double staircase and revealed Madame Pearlman at the top with her great-nephew, Latif. He held out a hand for her to steady herself with as she approached the marble banister and silently surveyed the room a moment. The entirety of the populace remained quiet with bated breath for her to speak.

"Malfoy. That name has carried a certain respected legacy for many generations," she started.

"For hundreds of years, it was something to be loved... and feared. Born from the name were many witches and wizards who grew to become fierce members of society. They had elegance, grace, ferocity, cunning, cleverness and ambition beyond almost any of the sacred twenty-eight families.

"After my dear friend, Narcissa passed, we weren't sure what was to become of Malfoy Manor, the name itself, or young Draco, for that matter. It saddens all our hearts that he had to give up this precious home that his entire lineage grew from. But we will not weep. We will not be sad this day for a boy who had no choice. We will celebrate the many years the Malfoy name has thrived and embrace him for his courageous decision to pass it on to another family of equal caliber; the Fawley's." She droned. Hermione thought she could see a small moment of regret pass of Pearlman's face at the mention of her married name. It was too fleeting to tell, though.

There were some whisperings and definite staring in Draco's direction. He ignored it the best he could and rubbed his thumb over the space between Hermione's thumb and index finger over and over.

Hermione had never heard such a speech. In one breath she praised his family and in another, she was back-handedly insulting them.

"Tonight we honor you," Madame Pearlman bowed her head slightly in Draco's direction. "and the entire Malfoy line, no matter how convoluted or corrupt it has become over the years, it still stands tall." She raised a goblet up and everyone followed suit and drank to Draco's _convoluted_ family line.

"On a completely unrelated topic, there will also be a silent auction this evening to raise funds for St. Mungo's following the tragedy that befell those in the Ministry after that dreadful explosion," Pearlman mentioned, trying to look somber. "So tonight you should all eat, drink, be merry, and open those coin purses!" she finished, raising her glass again.

The ballroom erupted in applause but it was a tad uncomfortable. The spotlight dissipated and the candlelight resumed its bright glow. The music restarted and everyone's plates suddenly filled with piles of food for dinner. All of the witches and wizards dug in and began to loudly chatter as the meal started. Hermione couldn't touch one morsel. She was outraged at the blatant disrespect when the entire reason for the ball was to honor Draco's lineage and be parting respect for his family. Instead, it was being used as media fluff to further the respectability of the Fawley's over the Malfoy's.

Madame Pearlman slowly made her way with Latif down the steps. Hermione had to mentally restrain herself from whipping out her wand from the holster beneath her dress.

"Draco," she felt at a loss for words. His eyes were glassy and his hair looked a mess from running a hand through it.

"I'm okay," he reassured her but couldn't meet her gaze.

"Like hell you are," Theo said. "she just publicly shamed your family, mate! We won't stand for it."

"You have to," Draco said harshly and stood, Madame Pearlman coming to stand in front of him. He bowed his head in respect before looking her in the eye.

"Thank you for that," he said monotonously. Her cold eyes seemed ready for him to challenge her. When he didn't, she almost looked disappointed.

"Of course, Draco," she said slowly. "and you know you're _always_ welcome here if you ever decide you've had enough of the riffraff." Her eyes cut to Hermione and then back to him, a sneer developing on her face.

"Thank you," he replied stiffly. She smiled, patted his cheek, and made her way to the opposite end of the table, seating herself at the head.

Draco stared off into space a moment longer before sitting back down with a hard look of indifference.

"Well that was uncomfortable," Blaise took another swig from the flask and shook it in Draco's direction. "Feel like kicking this drab ass ball into party mode?" Draco eyed him warily.

"That depends on your terms." The blonde replied, not quite himself yet.

"I say we figure out how to get this liquid courage into everyone else," Blaise replied, tapping the flask.

"That's easy enough," Hermione commented, still reeling from Pearlman's insults.

"And what do you know of mischief, little Granger?" Theo asked. "Pearlman will have about a dozen counterspells on any of the alcohol supplies to deter spiking." Hermione scoffed.

"Do you not know me at all?"

"We know you're not big on breaking rules or causing trouble," Blaise pointed out. Draco looked at her expectantly, Blaise's information sound.

"You're right but," she shrugged her shoulders. "I think Draco could use a little cheering. And I've seen enough muggle movies to know what I have to do."

"I guess it pays to be a muggle-born, at times, eh Granger?" Blaise mentioned. She smiled and nodded.

Astoria leaned over with a sly grin.

"Count us in," she smirked. "we're up for a little ruckus. This party has only begun and it's already far too boring." Max laughed and saluted his champagne flute in agreement.

"Alright then, here's the plan," Hermione began. Blaise, Theo, Draco, Astoria, and Max all leaned in while she whispered the scenario to them.


	32. Spiked With Sentiment

**Chapter 32 is up! Thank you so much for the reviews, you guys! It means the world! xoxox**

The flask glugged this way and that in Draco's suit jacket as they said their hello's to the who's who of Europe.

"Minister, great of you to come," Draco shook Shacklebolt's hand briefly.

"I'm flattered by the invite, all things considered," Kingsley said. He was handsome in cobalt dress robes and had grown out and groomed a new dusting of facial hair.

"I made sure the best of the best would make the list, sir," Draco said. Kingsley didn't know how to respond to that so instead, he nodded to Draco and grabbed Hermione's hand with both of his and gave her a familial smile.

"Hermione you look beautiful."

"Thank you, Minister," she beamed. "Not to talk shop but have you had a chance to look over the letter I sent you regarding Latif's admission when we were at George's shop?"

"Yes I received your letter but there was no real admission made, unfortunately. There's nothing we can do except watch and wait," Kingsley's voice was low and he looked around to make sure they weren't heard. "In the meantime, try to avoid him the best you can," Hermione agreed and wished him a good night as she and Draco moved on.

"Malfoy," A large, jovial man who looked to be in his fifties walked up. He wore an impeccable suit that barely covered his expanding stomach. He seemed to have the world's smallest curled mustache and an honest-to-merlin monocle.

"Hello, sir," Draco bowed his head slightly in respect. The man inclined his head back and his eyes darted to Hermione beside him. "This is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger,"

Hermione's stomach was assaulted with butterflies at his formal title of her. She grinned and tried not to look like a fool in front of the onlooker.

"A pleasure," The man said, smiling ear to ear. "This isn't _the_ Hermione Granger, though, is it?"

"Yes, sir," Draco said.

"Well done, kid," The man clapped Draco on the back and gave him a knowing expression and wink. Hermione suppressed an eye roll. "Is she the one whose book is on the chopping block?"

"Yessir,"

Hermione blanched and then looked at Draco expectantly.

"Sorry, love, allow me to introduce you. This is Thomas Farley, the owner of Olympus."

"Owner? I thought all the senior publishers owned it together?"

"We do," Draco assured. "But Mr. Farley owns the most stock and the building itself. He used to be a publisher, too but retired several years back. He's still heavily involved in the daily rotation, though."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Hermione tried to sound genuine. "but what did you mean by, 'chopping block?'"

"It's what we call the roster for potential works that are being optioned for publication, young lady. Although yours hasn't been given a green light yet due to some last minute changes, I've heard."

"Indeed. I'm almost finished. I was working on it just this morning," Hermione stammered a bit, feeling slightly intimidated and unprepared.

"I'm sure it'll be worth our resources." Thomas Farley said shortly, clearly not paying much attention to her anymore. "If you'll excuse me, I need to greet someone I just realized was here," He waddled off, stopping short of a gaggle of young, pretty witches near a chocolate fountain.

"Sorry about him," Draco looked exasperated. "He's a harmless nuisance these days. He has no real authority anymore but we all like to make him think he does."

"What do you mean? He owns Olympus!" Hermione had a deep respect for anyone that she regarded as a superior.

"He hasn't had any real input in the company since before I started there. He gets a monthly update of the goings-on and writes back some ideas but that's it. Most of the time he doesn't even reply. He'd rather sail around the Bermuda Triangle with his new flavor-of-the-month. That's probably why he showed up tonight; he's trolling for a new pet." Draco shook his head in sad amusement at the older wizard. Hermione felt a little better about him completely passing her over now.

"What a strange man," she commented.

"Agreed," Draco said. "Let's go talk to a few more people and then we can start our mission."

Hermione nodded and allowed him to lead her around. They spoke to celebrities, CEO's, moguls and a few other of his acquaintances from work. When the Daily Prophet wanted an interview, Draco started to deny them but Hermione stopped him.

"It should be okay. They'll just keep hounding you all evening." She pointed out. He realized her logic and gave a curt nod to the reporter and photographer.

"Excellent, thanks Miss Granger!" The reporter, a short woman with a brown bob and wide-rimmed glasses, took out a quick quotes quill and smiled.

"It's Hermione, please,"

"Okay, Hermione. How's the evening going so far?" the reporter asked them.

"So far, so good," Draco replied.

"And who are you wearing this evening?" she looked down at their attire. Hermione explained the designer of her dress and Draco admitted he had no idea about his but that Maxence Royer had been his stylist. A few more questions regarding the party itself later and the reporter sank into juicier questions.

"And what is your take on Madame Pearlman being the one to purchase your family home?"

"Well..." Draco looked at a loss.

"The Fawley's are a respected family. They have been for generations. I'm sure Draco's parents wouldn't have had it any other way," Hermione answered for him. Draco gave her a grateful expression.

"Indeed. There have also been rumors about you two. You've been spotted around London together over the last several weeks. Are you aware that people think you're having a torrid affair?"

Hermione stiffened at the language and Draco gave the reporter a charming smile.

"There's no affair;" he said. The reporter opened her mouth to ask another question but Draco put up his hand. "Affairs imply there's something to hide; that we're sneaking around. But you see, no one would be satisfied by just having a measly affair with Hermione Granger."

"So that means...?"

"It means we're in a happy, consenting relationship. We're not hiding anything." Draco concluded.

"You can understand how that may look to a lot of people in the wizarding community," the reporter baited.

"We're very aware. But we're also very sure that it's none of their business how we conduct our personal lives." Hermione tried not to sound too aggressive.

"You have a point there," the reporter acquiesced. "But many still speculate how a... relationship... could ever flourish between two people who'd not only been enemies at school growing up, but also in the last wizarding war. How do you two overcome the adversity?"

"We grew up. Others should, too." Draco clipped.

"And is it true that you're already living together-?"

"I think that's all we have time for. I can't monopolize my other guests any longer. Have a good evening." Draco cut her off, turning away and tugging Hermione by the hand to follow.

"Oh! But if you could just answer a few more quest-"

"I think Mr. Malfoy made himself clear," Hermione stared the reporter down over her shoulder when she tried to follow them. The photographer had already gotten his fill of pictures and was holding the reporter's elbow.

"Quite right. Thank you for your time," the reporter babbled, embarrassed.

"You're welcome," Hermione mentioned and followed Draco as he led her away.

"How intrusive," she mentioned when they were far enough away. Draco rounded and captured her in an impulsive kiss.

"Quite," he said breathlessly when he released her. "I don't usually like talking to them but that wasn't so bad,"

"No?"

"Nope. I like talking about you; about us. I'm a lucky man," he smirked.

"Same here," Hermione said with a dazzling smile.

"I didn't know you were a man, Granger. Is that why you haven't given it up yet?" he joked conspiratorially, his voice just above a whisper so no one would overhear as they walked side by side, weaving through the tables. Hermione smiled and made an offended noise before playfully hitting his shoulder. Draco chortled and kissed her once more.

A few more encounters later and it was almost time for action.

Hermione kept sneaking discreet glances this way and that to make sure everyone was doing what they needed to. Theo was distracting Madame Pearlman's table while Blaise chatted up some of the servers. Harry and Ron casually made their way upstairs while Astoria and Max were taking leisurely turns around the dancefloor.

A few moments later, Harry looked over the banister, gave Hermione a thumbs up, and a tango beat floated out over the ballroom. Astoria and Max proceeded to break out into a classic and seductive tango that drew a crowd around them pretty quickly. The other couples that had been dancing stopped to take in the perfection.

It was a detail Hermione couldn't have even planned. Who could have known that Astoria and Max would be proficient in the tango? Astoria had said all pureblooded families required their children to take all the classical dances growing up. Max had been no different, coming from a pureblooded French family.

The friends had taken tango classes together in the past and it showed as they wound themselves around each other with the ease that only dancing with the same person over time could achieve. Astoria's red dress and high slit caught male attention while Max's silky moves earned him looks of adoration and envy. The pair seemed to be competing with each other; their movements grew wilder and more calculating as Max lifted Astoria into the air to throw her and she landed with magical grace in a complicated turn a second later. They were giving one another a challenging look. Astoria seemed to want to run the show but it was clear Max was the leader. He asserted his dominance, running the goddess-like woman through several more complicated moves before finally dipping her low and coming to an abrupt halt as the music ceased.

The tango ended; the couple held their final pose while their chests heaved. The crowd that formed around them went wild with applause and yells of appreciation. Max held out a hand for his partner to stand and they barely took their bow before a heavy techno beat flooded the room. The couple gave faux looks of confusion as the crowd excitedly cried out their approval of the new tunes; tons of others who'd been observing from tables migrated towards the floor and in moments the place was filled with people moving to the beat.

Hermione bobbed her head to the music and leisurely made her way with Draco towards the bar area where all the servers kept the barrels of drinks that magically refilled the glasses. Blaise was talking to the main replenisher when he noticed them approach. It looked like he had his prey fully distracted. His bright smile was in full bloom and he kept flirtatiously touching her arm and asking silly questions. The woman was putty in his hands.

Now was Hermione's chance.

She held her hand out to Draco and he smiled wickedly, handing her the flask. She bent down and lifted her dress up a little to reach her wand, which had been safely tucked into a holster that was attached around her calf and ankle.

"Careful Granger, don't want anyone else seeing the show," Draco cautioned playfully, sneaking a glance at her exposed flesh. She rolled her eyes and ignored him. "How did you think to do this anyway?"

"A lot of muggle films have scenes where teens spike the punch at their school dances and proms," she murmured.

"Prom?" Draco sounded confused.

"Like a leavers ball?" He still looked confused. "Just think Yule Ball but it's at the end of your schooling. It's like a celebratory party when you graduate. Americans make movies about them a lot."

"Oh," Draco recognition evident in his eyes now. "That sounds like my kind of party. Booze and dancing with you. Kinda like this one," Hermione cracked a smile but focused on the task at hand.

She muttered a few incantations to fool the magic barriers into thinking she was repairing something instead of adding liquid. Satisfied her work would go unnoticed, she unscrewed the lid to the flask and began pouring its' contents into the large bucket marked, 'Pumpkin Wine,' which seemed to be the crowd favorite of the evening, according to George.

"Hurry, Granger," Draco suddenly muttered. The cap to the flask slipped through her fingers at his warning and rolled under the cart. Cursing, she peeked to see what had Draco sounding panicked.

Latif was making his way over.

Hermione pulled back, trying desperately to reach under the cart for the cap now that the flask was empty. Coming to her senses, she raised her wand, 'Accio'd' the lid, barely snagging and screwing it back on the flask, and shoved it, along with her wand, into her handbag before standing up straight as Latif joined them.

"Ah, found it!" She exclaimed, pretending to reattach an earring. Draco helped her to her feet.

"Enjoying pretending to be a first class citizen for the night, Granger?" Latif asked. His voice back to its' smarmy tone. "You know just because you put on designer clothes and get invited to a fancy ball doesn't mean you're still anything more than mudblood trash-"

Hermione ignored his intimidation tactics and looked to Draco.

"I think you owe me a dance, Mister Malfoy," she winked, talking over Latif's beratement. Draco smiled wide and nodded.

"I think you're right, Miss Granger,"

They walked past Latif, ignoring his arrogant sneer at being ignored, and headed for the dancefloor. They gave Blaise a nod to let him know they were done and he followed soon after at a slower pace.

A promiscuous beat started overhead while they made their way through the crowd. Hermione laughed as Draco twirled her around and danced her in the direction of her family, who were all getting down to the beat. Hermione was glad to see Harry and Ron had succeeded in their endeavors and that Ginny had managed to get everyone, including Bill and Fleur who'd finally arrived, on the dancefloor. Theo was dancing a ways away from Ginny; he had a couple of girls from Witch Weekly Magazine moving around him. Astoria and Max were laughing hysterically about something or other with Charlie. Blaise joined in a minute later and took one of the reporters off Theo's hands. Everyone seemed to finally be having a good time.

As soon as people began to get thirsty, things would turn interesting fast.

Mission (almost) accomplished.

"You're wild, Granger!" Draco yelled over the tempo. Hermione laughed and enjoyed being led around by his fluid movements and fun rhythm. "Who'd have thought not to use magic and just dump it in?"

"I used a little," she reminded him. He shook his head and kept twirling her around.

Several numbers later a slow song began, finally allowing people to take a break and rehydrate.

Draco kept Hermione on the floor and pulled her close, swaying her back and forth to a song about how truly, madly and deeply the man singing loved someone.

"This night has been so incredibly strange," Draco commented. "I didn't really think I'd enjoy myself so much," Hermione chuckled, her arms circling around his neck.

"You can say that again,"

"Who knew you could be such a rebel? I bet the masses are getting sloshed as we speak." He looked around, checking to see how many people were actually drinking. Without knowing exactly how much pumpkin wine had been left, they weren't sure the potency would have much of an effect. Especially as it kept replenishing and diluted the potion too much.

"I blame my rebellious nature on the boys," Hermione nodded her head in the direction of Harry and Ron, who sat at the table with the rest of the Weasley clan. "They got me into loads of trouble at school. Maybe I've simply developed a taste for it,"

"Oh, I don't know," Draco said conspiratorily. "I've _seen_ that lingerie drawer. I think you've probably always had a naughty side all along." Hermione giggled, leaning her head against his shoulder for a moment to compose herself before continuing. "What's so funny, Granger?"

"Can I tell you a secret?" She asked.

"Please do," Draco grinned. She leaned into his ear.

"That drawer?" She whispered. "It does have naughty things, but..." she hesitated.

"But what?" Draco poked her waist, trying to tickle the truth out of her. She laughed and drew back. He stopped so he could hold her once more, relishing in their closeness.

"I didn't buy them for me. Not really. I got it all as... research material for my book." She admitted, watching for his reaction.

Draco's head fell back in a laugh that she could feel at both their cores, they were so close together. His body shook from it, causing her to join in.

"Only you'd buy naughty things as research materials!" He shook his head. "All the sexual education books make much more sense now,"

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do,"

"I respect the hell out of you, Hermione," he said, his tone taking a more serious turn. "And I'm a bit envious. You know what you want and you just go for it."

"You do, too." She reminded him.

"Not as much as I'd like." He said. "I'm working on it, though." His words held a stronger meaning, implication heavy. His eyes bore into hers. She loved looking into them. She almost felt that, if you looked long and hard enough, his soul was right behind them. A soul, she realized, that had been strong and good all along but that he wasn't really able to share with anyone. She was so grateful she could see it now; that he was willing to open his heart to her and let her in.

"Draco?"

A strong pang of deep encouragement hammered in her chest and she knew if she didn't say something now, she'd probably never have the courage to say anything at all. The alcoholic potion had made her just warm enough to release her inhibitions and come to terms with how she truly felt. It had been coming on for some time now. She wanted to tell him before now but always drew back, their history always getting in the way. They hadn't been together long; she almost felt it was too reckless to say anything out loud. And maybe it wasn't the right time, but when would it be?

"Yeah, love?" He answered, his face drawing closer to hers. She stared down at his tie a moment, gathering her Gryffindor courage the best she could. She glanced back up and blew out a shallow breath. It was now or never and she was sick of never taking chances anymore.

"I know it probably makes zero sense right now and my head is telling me this is crazy but... I don't know, I don't want to scare you-"

"Out with it, Granger," Draco said playfully. Hermione swallowed hard.

"I think," her voice broke, revealing her nerves. She swallowed hard. "I mean... I'm pretty sure I might already be in love with you,"

Draco stopped their slow movements. He still held her around the waist, one hand placed over hers on his chest. His mouth was open slightly and his eyes zeroed in on hers with a level of ferocity she'd never seen before.

"Draco?" When he didn't respond right away, she panicked. "I'm sorry, I..." She avoided his gaze and felt a harsh flush creep up her back and chest and into her face. "It was a mistake to say something like that so soon. Forgive me, I'll just-" She tried to pull away but Draco had her in a vice.

"Hermione," he finally spoke. "look at me,"

"I've never said that before. To anyone. Not even Ron." Her voice wavered at his apparent rejection. "This was obviously a mistake-"

"I need you to look at me right now, Granger," he growled low, turning her chin so she'd face him.

"What?" She answered angrily, meeting his eyes. He had the same look of surprise but it was accompanied by satisfaction, now, as well. His small smile had her stomach tied in knots with hope. And that wasn't something she was accustomed to anymore.

"I've loved you for a long time, Hermione. I'm just surprised, is all. I know how difficult it's been to let me in and be a part of your life. After everything I've done to you in the past, I'm just... like I said, surprised."

Hermione looked at him in amazement, not quite believing it.

"Did you hear me? I love you, too, you daft witch," he said, breaking into a huge grin at her shocked expression. And just like that, she was kissing him fiercely. The whole wizarding world be damned.


	33. A Dark Place

****This update is a bit shorter and later than I'd like it to be. Sorry about that! Last week I was terribly ill and then my hubby hurt his back. We're all healed up and preparing for vacation this weekend. It's my 30th birthday, woo! Just know the cliffhanger will pay off, I promise!****

"Draco," Hermione said low, her eyes were hooded as her head tilted back against a bedroom door.

As he'd said those magic words to her, everything blurred together.

After she'd thoroughly snogged him, camera flashes be damned, he'd led her out of the ballroom and dragged her up to his old childhood room as quickly and discreetly as he could. _Malfoy Mansion might belong to Pearlman now but this was still his domain for one more night, damnit!_

He kissed her feverishly. Her lips, her neck, her bare shoulders, her arms... he left no place untouched by the warmth of his mouth. His wet kisses left cold trails in their wake.

Hermione's body responded to him in ways that he couldn't have imagined before. Shuddering at his assault, she tugged gently at the strands of his hair. Gooseflesh erupted across her arms and her fingers trembled as she slid his jacket from his shoulders and lifted his shirt tails from inside his trousers.

A flash of light erupted behind Draco through the large windows at the other end of the room. As if on cue, thunder sounded not far behind. Rain began to pelt the glass panes. Softly, at first, but then as a wild torrent. The lanterns outside slightly illuminated the room, casting shadows from the streams of rainfall. All that could be heard was the sound of rain and their breath co-mingling in a fight for oxygen.

Draco tried to breathe evenly; tried to think coherently. He wanted her more than anything he could ever remember asking for in his entire life. And it seemed that she wanted him, too, if her trying to undress him was any indication, but he wanted to be sure. They'd agreed to take it slow, after all.

Besides, his world was still dangerous for her. He worried for her every day. Just being friends was crime enough for the pureblooded bigots in his life; but to actually strike up a romance with a muggle-born, especially one that helped take down Voldemort, was grounds for serious consequences. And even though he'd done everything he could to detach himself from that circle and their own inane set of rules, the mark on his left forearm almost tingled as a reminder of how dangerous it still was for them to be together and that no matter how hard he tried, he could never completely get away from his past.

Hermione started to undo his belt buckle and Draco's hands flew to hers, stopping her in her tracks. The look of confusion that crossed over her made the hard-on in his pants deflate slightly.

"Don't overthink my hesitation," he warned, knowing her cues by now. "I want you so badly, Hermione, I promise. But not here," Draco gestured to the familiar room and sighed, catching his breath. Hermione seemed to come to her senses as she looked around and began to chuckle nervously.

"We got a little carried away, it seems," she agreed, chuckling nervously. Draco was relieved her feelings didn't seem to be hurt.

"It was nice, though, the carried away part," he kissed the corner of her mouth and her nerves melted away at the contact. He gazed into her eyes intently, the shadows of rainfall crossing over her face mesmerizing. "When we make love for the first time, I want it to be completely comfortable and special. I don't want to rush to put our clothes back on because a ballroom of people waits for us below,"

"What a speech," she teased. "but you're right; I wouldn't want my first time to be here in your... childhood home," she said delicately.

Draco studied her. He knew what she'd been about to say. The house held no fond memory for her. Except...

"I hope it's not disappointing that the first time we exchanged our 'I love you's' happened to be here," he mentioned as more of a comment than a question. But he desperately wanted to know her answer.

"Of course not. I'm just relieved you feel the same way," her insecurity leeched into her voice and body language. She now had her arms crossed over her body and looked over his shoulder toward the windows. Her walls seemed to be going back up. He desperately hoped there'd come a day when she stopped building them.

"I do, you know." He said. "Love you, that is." She nodded and sighed, looking back at him.

"You may need to keep reminding me," she said apologetically.

Draco kissed her ruby lips once more before reaching back to the floor for his jacket.

"That won't be a problem, Granger, trust me." He tucked his shirt tails back in. "We should probably head back down. Pearlman will notice I'm gone," he mentioned, internally wishing he could just take Hermione home right now and have his way with her.

"You're probably right. I'm just going to freshen up in the loo and I'll meet you down there in a moment," Hermione pointed to the en suite bathroom and he nodded.

"Don't take too long. You owe me more dancing. Plus we have to see how your handiwork panned out." Draco winked at his witch and she laughed.

"Alright, I won't,"

With one last kiss, Draco exited the room.

...

Hermione walked inside the lavish loo and performed an easy bit of wandless magic to illuminate the room. A lot of older wizarding homes still didn't use electricity, relishing the old world ways.

Her reflection revealed flushed cheeks and a small smudge of lipstick on the outer left corner of her lips. She fixed herself, reapplied a bit, and extinguished the light before opening the door again.

She'd almost had sex with Draco... right here in his family's house. Correction, it was now Madame Pearlman's house. As much as she wanted him, Hermione was glad he'd stopped them. Giving herself over to him would be hard enough with the swirls of anxiety she felt every day. He had a point about not wanting to rush. She wanted to take her time with him, no matter how much her body wanted to speed things up.

Hormones were tricky things, in her opinion.

What's more, she was finding that the intimate situations she shared with Draco led her to better understand his point of view on the fictional intimacies of the characters in her novel.

Not that she'd ever admit that to him.

Pride was tricky, too.

Hermione opened the bedroom door and almost ran smack into Pansy.

"Parkinson," Hermione greeted flatly. Pansy gave her a look of disgust. "I'm actually weirdly glad I ran into you. We have business to discuss,"

"What business could you possibly have with me?" She asked snidely, her eyebrows raised.

"It's about Narcissa's pearls. I heard you purchased them at the auction. I wondered if you'd consider selling them to me, instead." Hermione got straight to it, not wanting to spend a moment longer then she was required to near the unpleasant girl.

"You're serious? Why would I sell them to you? As if you could even afford something like pureblood, vintage pearls," Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"It's not about being able to afford it," Hermione stated. "They mean a lot to Draco. I'm told his mother always wore them,"

"She did. They've been passed down the Black line for centuries. And now they're mine. I won't sell them to some mudblood," she spat back. Hermione mentally counted to five before settling her nerves and plastering a smile on her face.

"You're saying there's literally nothing you'd want from me in exchange for them?"

Pansy calculated a moment, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes.

"Maybe your head on a platter?" She said nonchalantly, waving her hand casually. "But that's about it."

"In your dreams, Parkinson," Hermione dropped the fake smile and turned a heel, blowing out an exasperated breath. She knew this conversation was useless at this point. But she also knew herself; she could be persuasive and annoying, according to her friends, so maybe she could convince the horrid girl over time to give the pearls back.

Hermione started walking back down the hall towards the party when she felt a sudden, horrific pain on the back of her head, causing immediate pinpricks of stars in her vision, which blurred quickly as she hit the floor, unable to catch herself.

"I think _you're_ the one dreaming," she heard Pansy say from a distance as she fought and failed to stay conscious. "Nighty-night, mudblood,"


	34. How They Fell Apart

"Mum and Dad look like they're having a right good time," Ron said as he sat down next to Ginny back at their table.

"Yeah, they do," Ginny smiled at their silly parents as they danced the night away. Molly and Arthur Weasley deserved a night of fun. Ginny was glad they were getting it. "How's Lav?" She asked. Ron shrugged.

"You know how she gets around the full moon. She'll be alright,"

"I'm happy you two are making things work. For a second there, I thought you were still on about 'Mione," Ginny took another sip of the pumpkin wine, the warmth from the extra booze making her insides fuzzy. She had to hand it to Hermione, it was a great idea to spike the drinks. It wasn't really like her to do anything reckless these days. On the contrary, her anxiety prevented her from taking a lot of risks. It was good to see her opening up and relinquishing the constant control she had over her life. Draco seemed to be a good influence on her. Ginny was so happy they got together. It was really changing Hermionen's life for the better.

Ron didn't reply right away, making her glance over at her brother questioningly. He was still staring out at the dancing couples. "Ron?"

"Hmm?" He didn't look at her.

"You're not still holding out hope for Hermione, right?" Ginny asked, hoping she was reading into things. When Ron didn't reply, she made an annoyed sound. "She's with Malfoy," Ginny hissed.

"I know that!" he whispered back, shooting her a nasty look.

"And you're with Lavender-"

"I know that, too. Stop pointing out the obvious, Gin." She could tell he was getting really peeved now.

"Then stop being such a tosser! You have a good woman who loves you. Hermione has made it very clear how she feels about Draco. Just let it go. You'll be much happier," Ginny scolded.

"Pft," Ron rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"I'm not keen on taking advice from those who can't take their own," Ron said, slamming back his drink and walking away. Ginny gaped after him momentarily before glancing back in the direction of dancing couples. Harry was just beyond the crowd speaking to a couple of his Auror buddies.

Ron was right. She shouldn't be giving someone advice she couldn't follow.

Ginny finished her own drink and stood, smoothing out her dress and making her way casually around the dancefloor.

If there was one thing Ginny always knew, it was when Harry was looking at her. Even if she wasn't directly looking his way; she could always feel when his eyes were on her. Call it instinct, intuition or just plain magic... she always knew.

And he'd been staring at her all evening.

She could ignore it like she'd tried the whole night, respecting the wishes he'd conveyed the other day; or she could act on it, hoping he'd change his mind. Even just a small glitter of hope was something she could hold onto, and his staring seemed to be that hope.

Ginny tried to control her breathing when she got near enough to touch him.

One of the men Harry was chatting with, Auror Perkins, spotted her just as she stood behind Harry's shoulder. The obvious up-down of his eyes was something she was used to. She tried not to roll her own. Perkins wasn't a bad looking bloke, but he was an absolute lecher; not her type at all.

"What?" Harry asked, noticing Perkins' change. He looked over his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Ginny said, trying with all her might to look passive and pleasant. Harry turned his body to face her.

"What do you want?" He looked fatigued.

"A dance?" She ventured. It was a long shot, she knew, but she had to try. His brows furrowed and his hands flew to his pockets. He ducked his head and looked down at the floor a minute before answering.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," he said awkwardly, shuffling his feet. The rejection pierced right through her but she trucked on, needing to know how he felt.

"It's just a dance, Harry," Ginny tried to cover her hurt by making it sound menial.

"There's nothing 'just' about anything we do, Ginny." His green eyes, which used to shine so bright every time he looked at her, avoided her gaze. But Ginny held firm.

"I know," was her reply.

"Merlin, Potter, if you don't dance with her, I will," Perkins guffawed. "Or I'll make McAdams here take her out for a spin!" His Auror friend, a mousier-looking fella with ashy-blonde hair and glasses, turned red at the idea. It was cute, really.

Harry hesitated and Ginny almost thought the victory was hers.

"Too late, Potter," Perkins declared and brushed past Harry, taking Ginny's hand and pulling her away.

Before she could think to argue, a rare concept to be sure, he had her in the middle of the dancefloor. Harry looked horrified. McAdams looked relieved.

"Easy there, Weasley, your desperation is showing," Perkins, whose first name she had trouble remembering, said as he swayed her back and forth. Ginny stopped looking at Harry and gave the man in front of her a sharp assessment. He seemed amused that he was ruffling her feathers. His mustache twitched and he winked one of his brown eyes.

"Desperation? I think you're mistaken."

"Any witch or wizard in this place can see you've still got a hard-on for Potter, and that he doesn't particularly know what he wants to do about it," he claimed.

"I doubt that,"

"Deny it all you want, lovey, but that man won't want much more to do with you unless you make yourself unavailable. Men always want what they can't have."

"Maybe that's true for the trollops you have chasing you. But Harry isn't like that," Ginny retorted.

"Wanna bet?" He asked, looking over her head at something.

"May I cut in?"

Ginny's heart stopped.

 _No way._

"I don't know, Potter, the dance isn't over-"

"Shove off, Perkins," Harry stepped into view and removed Ginny from the man's embrace. Perkins backed off with his hands raised.

"Whatever you say, boss," Smirking at her from behind Harry's back, he sauntered off to rejoin McAdams.

Ginny stood frozen to the spot a moment as Harry placed one hand in hers and the other on her waist. He tried to move in time and was confused when she didn't budge.

"What?" His eyes shifted around, trying not to look directly at her. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Cut in..."

"Well-"

"Harry!"

"Ginny, what?"

"I already had a partner!" She tried to argue, knowing herself it was futile seeing as how she didn't want to dance with Perkinson anyways.

"Perkins?" Harry spat. "That guy's a tosser,"

"He is but he's also your friend." She mentioned, giving him a pointed look.

"Would you rather I fetch him back?" Harry pulled away. Ginny grabbed his forearms.

"No!" She hissed, trying not to make a scene. A few of the other couples looked their way but quickly forgot them. Harry drew her close again and this time she let him lead her around for a minute before resuming the conversation. "I was just confused,"

"About?"

"Something Perkins said. It doesn't matter." Harry didn't make her elaborate. Instead, he pulled her closer, allowing their cheeks to touch. It was the most contact they'd had since she'd kissed him at Grimmauld Place. Whether Perkins' theory was right or not, she wouldn't let the opportunity to be close to Harry again go to waste. She'd let herself pretend for just a little while that they weren't as shattered and broken as she felt they were. It could be a happy memory she carried around with her for later when things went bad like they always did where this wizard was concerned.

The countless days of the war niggled in the back of her mind. She'd been scared every single day. For him. For her. For the potential future that might've never come to be. The countless nights she'd cry herself to sleep worrying over him and wondering if she'd ever see him alive again. Sure, she'd tried to distract herself. School. The Order. Dumbledore's Army. She knew if she could just stay busy and try to do as much as she could to fight the good fight at home, someday he might swoop in and be in her arms once more.

She'd been right. She'd had him. Their futures seemed tied together. After so many years of loving him, he finally seemed to see her. Really _see_ her and love her for who she was. They were finally going to be together.

What she hadn't been banking on was Teddy. A bright, beautiful baby boy whose parents had died in the battle. It was heart-wrenching and tragic. As his Godfather, Harry took charge of him.

Those early days in Teddy's life where they'd had to try to figure out how to be parents were some of the hardest and best days of her life. It was adorable watching Harry learn how to swaddle, feed and generally care for Teddy. Despite his anxieties on the subject, he was quite the natural. And that was something that both amazed and scared her. A lot.

Harry was always busy in those days. Not that he wasn't now, too. But the beginnings of Auror training were intense and immersive. He'd be gone for days at a time on mock missions while Ginny scheduled around grueling quidditch try-outs to stay home with Teddy. Andromeda helped, of course, but she still had her own job back then. It wasn't until a while later that she was able to retire and care almost full time for Teddy.

The night Ginny let on how much she was sacrificing for their little family and how frustrated it made her feel, Harry hadn't been too pleased. In fact, he seemed to have not even noticed.

" _Shhh, Teddy will wake, Harry," Ginny had tried to calm down the wizard from his excitement at making it through to the final stage of Auror Training. He was excitedly chattering away at how hard the written exam was during the last stage but how he seemed to retain all the answers, despite how horrid at test-taking he'd been back at Hogwarts._

" _I can't help it, Gin, I'm just so surprised at how easy it seemed. I didn't even ask Hermione to help me study! Not that she'd really know any of the answers but still... she'd read a book on Auror protocols or something and help me if I'd asked—"_

" _You're right. Let's celebrate. We can go out this weekend? I have news, too-"_

" _I know_ exactly _how I want to celebrate," Harry said, wagging his eyebrows. Ginny chuckled softly, smiling at the boy who'd become such an amazing man right before her eyes. He daftly hadn't even heard her mention for having news, too, but she didn't care. She'd let him have his moment._

 _Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her towards him at the kitchen table where he'd been sitting. Ginny straddled his lap, kissing him silly for several minutes while her lungs begged for air. Harry unclipped her hair, letting it cascade in a crimson waterfall down her back. He tugged softly at it, nipping her neck and earlobe when he suddenly whispered, "Let's make a baby,"_

 _Ginny stilled, her libido instantly drying up. She leaned back, still sitting in his lap. Their eyes met and he smiled._

" _What did you say?"_

" _Let's do it, Gin; let's make a baby." He said excitedly. "I love you so much. I love how great our life is. I want to make it even better."_

 _Ginny hesitated. She could see how much joy the prospect of more children brought him. But they already had baby Teddy. And besides, she'd just received the letter today that-_

" _Gin?" Harry's brows furrowed. "You alright?" Ginny hopped off his lap and threw her hair over one shoulder. Her arms crossed over her chest and she sighed._

" _I can't have a baby right now, Harry."_

 _He paused for a length in thought but then his face settled in resignation._

" _Marry me," he blurted out._

 _Ginny took a physical step back. Just when she thought the baby idea would be the biggest shock of the evening, he had to propose? Now?_

 _It's not that she didn't want to marry him. She thought about it all the time. But marriage to Harry meant babies, it seemed. Maybe if they could just keep it a bay for another year or so while she figured things out with-_

" _Say something," Harry had hurt written in his eyes now. It seemed like he thought he'd already known his answer and was disappointed he'd been wrong._

" _I-I-" Ginny stuttered, which was an unusual side effect of nerves that didn't happen to her very often._

" _I know you can be quite traditional, despite your rebellious side. Pureblooded families always seem to be a little bit more old fashioned, no matter their background. Getting married first is probably a good idea. One that I've been thinking about for a while," Harry said, trying to mask his feelings with logic. He rose from the table and plucked an old box of bran cereal from the counter. He opened it and shoved his full arm inside, digging around in the contents and creating crunching noises as he rummaged._

" _Hey wha-" Ginny's protest died on her lips as he pulled out a small, wooden box from the package and set it aside. He got down on one knee and opened the tiny lid, revealing a diamond ring from within. It was beautiful and understated, just like most of the things she owned._

" _I love you, Ginny. Please do me the honor of being my wife?" Harry looked up at her adoringly with those bright green eyes and she almost caved. She wanted to say yes so badly. But she needed him to know how she felt first. She knelt down on the floor in front of him, slowly closing the lid to the little box. A tiny 'v' formed between his brows in confusion._

" _I need to tell you something," she started, holding the hand that didn't clutch the box. "I received word today-I was given the open position on the Holyhead Harpies,"_

" _Wow! How about that?!" Harry smiled, bringing them to stand. It didn't quite feel genuine enough, though._

 _It had always been his plan to fall back to professional quidditch if Auror training hadn't panned out. It was the main thing they shared a common interest in that no one else seemed to get. Her brothers liked quidditch, of course, but it'd always been a strange concept to them that she'd love it so much, too, and that she and Harry could talk about it together for hours and went to games every chance they got. It was their thing._

 _There'd been several rounds of try-outs for the team that she'd had to attend for months. That meant staying in top shape and having a rigorous workout and nourishment routine. It was hard with Teddy but she'd made it through._

" _I can't just give it up to get married and have a baby. It's hard enough doing this to the one we have," she mentioned, hoping he'd see her side of things. Harry's face fell a fraction._

" _Oh." He was disappointed. "But what about Teddy? How're you planning on taking care of him if-"_

" _What do you mean?" Ginny bit out. "He's not just my responsibility, Harry. He's yours, too. And Andromeda's-"_

" _You know very well Andy can't always take him. And I'm just starting my career, Gin-"_

" _I am, too!" She retorted._

" _Quidditch isn't a life-long career, Gin. My job is." He said flatly like it was the most obvious fact in the world._

" _What're you trying to say, that your dream is more important than mine?" Ginny felt her temper flaring._

" _Of course not! But mine could provide a real future for us-"_

" _You know how lucrative playing on a professional team is, Harry, so don't try to tell me you'd be a better provider for our family. Besides, you know I've been working towards this for a long time. We need to try to work this out together so that we can both get what we want."_

" _I don't know how we would do that," Harry shrugged dismissively. "No one we know can care for him full time while I'm at work and you're traipsing around Britain playing a game,"_

" _Playing a game?!" Ginny yelled. "Harry this is Quidditch we're talking about; the main thing we both love and share. You've played before. You know it's not just a game!"_

" _It is when your priorities shift!" He said. "I want to get married and start and family with you, Ginny. I mean, we've already started with Teddy-"_

" _No,_ you _started with Teddy._ You're _his godfather, Harry. I love him more than anything but I'm in no way ready to be a full-time mother. Not yet. I have ambitions and dreams, too." Ginny said. "If you felt this way, why didn't you mention it when I first told you I was going for the major leagues?"_

" _Honestly? I think you're an excellent player but I never really thought you'd make a professional team-"_

" _You WHAT?" Ginny yelled._

" _I don't mean it the way it sounds! There's just so many people who try out for those teams. I thought it was a gamble to begin with. But Ginny, I know you're talented enough. I do. I would never think you weren't..." Harry tried to backtrack but the damage was done. Ginny felt like she'd been slapped._

" _You had no faith in my abilities?"_

" _I just said-"_

" _I heard what you said," Ginny bit out. "I just don't think you meant it. If you thought It'd be such a fool's errand, why encourage me? If you didn't want me getting into something so time-consuming, why build me up about it?"_

 _Harry hesitated. He looked like he'd swallowed something foul. Ginny shook her head at his silence._

" _You thought I'd fail; you were counting on it." She whispered. "Well the joke's on you because not only did I make the team but they negotiated my salary up for all my raw talent."_

 _Harry shook his head, unsure of how to respond to her._

" _Harry, I can't be with someone who doesn't believe in me or understand my wants and needs,"_

" _Stop. That's not what this is about." He argued._

" _The hell, it isn't!" Ginny spat. "I'm not ready to get married or have children."_

" _Well I am!"_

" _You already have Teddy-"_

"We _have Teddy; both of us." Harry corrected._

" _This isn't about him. Let's just leave him out of it." She insisted. "It just seems like our priorities aren't aligned anymore." Ginny looked at him with sympathy._

" _What does that mean?" Harry looked truly pissed off now._

" _What it means is this," Ginny clipped her hair back up and rested her hands on her hips. "I want to play professional quidditch. You want me to be a stay at home mom and housewife while you become an Auror. I'm not willing to sacrifice my dream and neither are you. And that's how it should be. But that means we're officially on different paths."_

" _That's not fair,"_

" _Of course it isn't. If you'd be willing to wait maybe... I don't know... a couple of years or so..." Ginny suggested._

" _I don't want to wait. Teddy needs a mother right now, not in a couple of years. And I want him to have siblings." Harry said._

" _The Ministry has an excellent daycare for when I'm at away games and you're working," Ginny suggested, grasping at straws._

" _I don't want strangers raising him! It's bad enough Remus and Tonks aren't here-"_

" _That's what I'm saying, Harry! You're not willing to wait or budge. You're being pig-headed and stubborn!" Ginny yelled, stomping a foot. Teddy started crying upstairs._

" _Great, you woke him," Harry rolled his eyes._

" _You act like you're the one who struggled for an hour to get him to sleep!" Ginny fumed, starting up the stairs to get the toddler. Harry followed close behind. She opened the door to Teddy's room, which was his Remus' old room while he'd been in the Order, and picked up the child with outstretched arms. "There, there," she soothed, bouncing her body this way and that to quiet him. She noticed his hair was a soft lilac color as he laid his head against her shoulder and reached his hand up to curl around a tendril of her own, muttering her name sleepily like he wasn't fully awake. When he drifted off, Ginny sighed and whispered, "I'm the one who's here with him ninety-nine percent of the time. I'm the one who got him through his fight with bottles and then teething. And now the sleep regression-"_

" _I've been here, too," Harry whispered back, trying not to jar the child out of his snoozy state._

" _I know," Ginny acquiesced, setting Teddy gently back down on his back in the small child's bed. "Of course you have. But I've been the one with him most of the time. I'm his main caregiver. And I don't resent it, not at all, but I can't sacrifice all my hard work just because you don't feel comfortable with strangers having him a few days a week,"_

" _It would be more than that and you know it. Andy can only take him one day a week right now. Molly and Arthur have their own grandkid and work. Auror training is just the tip of the iceberg for how busy things will get once I'm actually an officer. And professional quidditch is time-consuming. The games, practices, interviews, events... it's never-ending for almost eight months straight. You'll be out of the country some of the time not to mention if you make it to the Quidditch World Cup..."_

" _So you're saying you want me to give up my position? I've worked too hard, Harry,"_

" _You're talented, to be sure, but Teddy doesn't need the instability. He needs a mother." Harry said as he followed her into the hallway. Ginny closed the door gingerly behind them. It seemed Harry thought his arguments were swaying her. He ran a hand down her cheek and his head fell to one side, tracking her features. "I'm sorry, Gin. I know it's not the answer you wanted."_

" _Answer? You think I was asking for your permission?" Harry said nothing, sensing her anger._

 _How could he expect her to give everything up? She was young; barely twenty years old. Teddy was the most precious child but he wasn't hers. Not really. She didn't want to dishonor his parents' memory but she also didn't think it was fair of Harry to expect her to give up the Harpie's for motherhood. He wouldn't even budge. And while her brain applauded him advocating for Teddy's best interest, her heart told her she'd resent them both if she did what Harry wanted._

 _Ginny jerked her head away from Harry's gentle touch and padded down the hallway to their shared room and flung open the closet._

 _Harry followed her and gazed on in confusion. "What're you doing?"_

 _Ginny pulled out her Hogwarts trunk, dragging it to the end of the bed and flinging the lid open. She didn't answer Harry. This was going to be hard enough without him asking her a million questions._

" _Can you just leave, please?"_

" _No. Tell me what you're planning," he insisted._

 _Ginny ignored him and began flinging her wardrobe contents in the trunk. Harry's confusion turned to utter disbelief._

" _No, Ginny," He followed her into the loo where she was grabbing her toiletries from the cabinet. "This isn't the answer!" He yelled but she continued on grabbing all her possessions._

 _She levitated the trunk and bewitched it to follow her as she made her rounds of the house collecting books, pictures, the tea kettle her mother gave her, the slippers she kept downstairs... she didn't have much and most of it fit in her trunk. She hadn't ever been very frivolous, given that she'd grown up quite poor, and it benefited her at this moment._

" _Ginny, stop!" Harry yelled out as she plucked her broomstick from the cupboard in the kitchen. He grabbed her around her shoulders and shook her ever so slightly. Teddy started crying again from above._

" _I'll be staying at my parents' house for now," Ginny said in a quiet voice. She linked eyes with Harry for the first time since she started packing. He looked agonized. "This isn't what I want but it's clear we're not walking the same path anymore. I'd still like to see Teddy as much as possible, whenever you feel like it's the right time to do so. I do love him. And you. Tremendously. More than I think you even know." She cupped his stubbled cheek._

" _If you walk out on me and Teddy now, you can forget about ever coming back. We'll be done. For good. A mother doesn't just abandon her child-!" Harry yelled as tears started running down his cheeks._

" _I'm not Teddy's mother, Harry. And you never asked me if I would be. Or if I even wanted children, for that matter."_

 _Harry looked like he'd been slapped. His jaw hung wide open and his eyebrows pinched together._

" _But you said-"_

" _I never said anything either way. You just assumed I'd want the same things that you do. This was the last thing I expected to do, but I can't compromise who I am to be who you want me to be." Ginny didn't want to cry; she wanted to be strong. But damnit if the tears didn't have minds of their own and start pouring down her face._

 _Harry shook his head. "This is insane."_

" _I know. I'm sorry, Harry." Ginny kissed him on the cheek, squeezing his hand before letting go to walk to the front door, her trunk levitating behind and her broom in her left hand._

 _She left to the sound of Teddy's wails and Harry's muffled sobs._


	35. St Mungo's

The memory was like a stab to Ginny's chest. Her reasons for leaving Harry were valid and sound, but she realized what a mistake it had been to just leave. She'd always been a hot-head. Most of her family was, too. But now the repercussions were far worse than any fallout she'd had to deal with before.

Thinking back, though, she'd seemed to have done that with all her relationships; once it got tough, she got out. Harry had been a different story, though. She'd fought for him, waited for him, loved him from afar while he used up all his time on Cho freaking Chang and defeating Voldemort.

"You're awfully quiet," Harry remarked awkwardly.

"I thought you might prefer it that way,"

"Why?"

"I can only imagine how much you must hate me,"

"Hate you?" Harry asked incredulously. "I could never hate you,"

"Then why did you push me away the other night?" She asked softly. Harry clicked his tongue, sighing audibly.

"You know why,"

"Harry," Ginny drew back, her eyes searching his. "I know I hurt you. I'll never stop being sorry. I wasn't the only one to blame for us ending, though. Can't we just... try to move past it?"

"I thought we were?" Harry said sarcastically.

"I want to fix this; fix us." Ginny tried to coax him, knowing it was fruitless but trying anyways. "I've felt you staring at me all evening. Was I just imagining things or...?"

Harry looked over her shoulder, about ready to say something, when his breath caught and a sudden panic crossed his features.

"Hermione?!" He yelled, releasing his hold on Ginny. He rushed past her.

Ginny turned to the double staircase Harry ran towards and yelped, covering her mouth.

Hermione was walking down the right side, dress torn to shreds and covered in blood. She was completely catatonic as she slowly descended, grabbing onto the banister with one hand. Her dress lifted slightly with each step, revealing she didn't have shoes on anymore.

Ginny strode forward quickly, jogging best she could in heels.

Hermione stopped, swaying slightly, before collapsing completely. Harry caught her mid-faint before she fell to the bottom. Ginny stopped short of the stairs, shaking her head as Harry cradled an unconscious Hermione in his arms.

"Her hair..." Ginny sobbed, seeing gashes all over her friend so clearly now. Harry turned, searching the crowd before finally seeing who he was looking for.

"MALFOY!" He bellowed.

Draco hadn't noticed Hermione's quiet descent; hardly anyone had in all the frivolity. Many looked over now, though, as Draco responded to his name being called from where he was talking with Theo and Blaise. Several people gasped and craned their necks to see what was going on.

Draco saw the sea of gold in Harry's arms and dropped his half-full glass, shattering it on the floor, to rush over. He kneeled down where Harry held Hermione and shook his head, trying to take in the state of her.

"What? Oh, my gods... Hermione?" Draco's eyes began to well as his hands roamed her unconscious figure. "What happened?" His voice broke, strained by emotion, as he looked to Harry for answers.

"She just came down like this..." Harry tried to hold back his own tears as he glared angrily at Draco. His green eyes flashed, making Draco visibly shrink back. "You were supposed to protect her!" Draco blanched, horrified guilt written all over his face in an instant.

"We need to take her to St. Mungo's quick before the press starts taking pictures!" Ginny hissed, doing the best she could to block the scene with her large ball gown. A small crowd had formed, heads put together and pointing their way. The music was silenced and an awkward hush of whispering voices settled through the hall.

"What's wrong—bloody hell!" Ron came on the scene and knelt down. "'Mione? Wake up! Blimey, wha-?"

"Apparate her away! Now!" Ginny demanded. Harry nodded, remembering himself. He held his best friend a little closer to his chest and popped away.

Normally no one could apparate in and out of Malfoy Manor but Harry and a few other senior Auror's were given clearance for this night. It was a good thing, too, because it would've taken too long to get her outside the grounds.

Draco sat on the steps, his shaking hands covered in Hermione's blood. He was in a daze, staring at all the red.

"Malfoy, let's go!" Ginny dragged him to his feet and began pulling him from the ballroom.

"We need to report this! You can't just leave!" Ron said, jogging alongside them.

"It's your job to do so, so do it! I'm taking Draco to the hospital," Ginny snapped. "Let the others know." She pointed to the Weasley's where they stood looking utterly shocked with Blaise and Theo.

Ron nodded and ran off in the other direction to seek out the undercover Aurors that were at the ball. They were already walking towards him.

"Did you see?" Draco mentioned moments later. "Her hair...?"

"Yes," Ginny tried to hold back her own tears.

"Someone cut it all off," Draco sobbed as they walked quickly across the grounds outside and headed to the gates.

"I know,"

"Who'd do that? Why-?"

"I don't know. But she had a target on her at this thing. It could have been anyone," Draco walked along in silence until they were outside the gates. Before they could disapparate, he turned her to face him.

"Is this my fault?"

Ginny's heart broke.

"Of course not! Come on!" She denied. But in reality, it might have been. But she'd never say that to him. Not ever.

...

"Ms. Granger has several lacerations over her scalp and neck. And that's just the beginning of her injuries. It seems whoever did this tried using a shearing charm," The Mediwitch, Pinkerton, said to the group of people who'd all gathered at St. Mungo's to be by Hermione's side.

"A shearing charm?" Ron asked. Molly sniffled beside him, holding his hand.

"It's typically used to cut hair but only by professionals who've studied magical hair design. An untrained novice could definitely cause this kind of damage if they were being careless with their wand-work." Pinkerton elaborated.

"No one would have been trying to cut her hair for fun. We were at a ball!" Draco piped up, gesturing with his hands to everyone dressed to the nines.

"I wasn't suggesting that Mr. Malfoy, I was merely pointing out that the charm could be used as a weapon if used in the wrong way. She has injuries over fifty percent of her body from it. It's practically like being sliced and stabbed with a knife, only there's no physical evidence." Pinkerton mentioned sadly.

"I was informed her capelet was recovered in shreds, maybe from that same charm. There was some sort of note pinned to it." Ron said.

"What did it say, Weasley?" Draco rounded on him. Ron glared up.

"No one has been allowed to read it yet. I only know about it because Brunt informed Harry who told me. Not like you care, anyways..." Ron spat.

"Of course I do! She's my girlfriend!" Draco pointed out. Ron scoffed, disgusted.

"For now! After this, who knows? You should just leave. This is obviously all your fault for making her go to this stupid thing in the first place!" Ron stood, pointing and jabbing Draco in the chest where he'd been pacing.

"Back off, Weasley!" Draco angrily shoved Ron's hand away and Ron looked ready to charge him.

"Enough!" Ginny stood and got between them, a wandless charm pushing them back with a small gust of wind. "None of this is going to help Hermione."

Draco looked ready for a fight, a sliver of his old hatred for Ron bubbling to the surface, unchecked by Ron's previous friendship with him and current friendship with Hermione. His eyes were wild with fury and grief. But instead, he took off his suit jacket and tossed it in a nearby chair before collapsing into it, thinking better of his anger. Ron sat down with his mother once more. Molly patted his back and rubbed it up and down, calming him as he put his head in his hands.

Ginny sighed, worried the tension would cause serious damage before this was over.

"When can we see her?" She asked. Pinkerton looked sympathetic.

"She's still in surgery. Some of the cuts were very deep. They're repairing the damage now." She replied. "I'll come out with another update once they're finished with her,"

With that, Mediwitch Pinkerton left the waiting room in a flurry of her pink hair and lime green healers' jacket, her glasses being tucked back into her pocket as she clutched her clipboard.

"Seems awful young to be a Mediwitch," Theo mentioned randomly from where he sat with Blaise across from the Weasley's.

"Not bad to look at, though," Blaise said, raising his eyebrows. Theo snickered.

"Shut up," Ginny sighed loudly, sinking back down in a seat.

Theo and Blaise looked only mildly chastised but ceased their commentary.

"Who would do this to her?" Ginny asked rhetorically after a few minutes.

"She has a lot of enemies," Arthur said quietly. "Some she may not even be aware of. That's what happens when you fight in a war."

"She was a war heroin at a pureblood ball. It could have been anyone," Charlie mentioned.

"No, it could have only been a select few, depending on where she was at when it happened," Bill said, wringing his hands and twirling his wedding band. Fleur had gone to take the children home while he'd opted to check on Hermione, promising his wife updates when he could.

"Why was she even upstairs in the first place? I thought she was with you?" George asked, looking to Draco. He had a guilty look on his face.

"She was... we were talking upstairs for a little while," he said slowly.

"Okay... but she was alone when this happened, right?" Ginny was trying to fit the pieces together.

"Unless he did it himself and left her for dead up there," Ron muttered.

Without warning, Draco launched himself at the man and punched him across the face. Ron was stunned but responded in kind, jabbing his fist into Draco's gut and grabbing his shirt collar. He shoved Draco back against one of the walls and got in a punch to his jaw. Draco took the blow then elbowed Ron in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. Draco took his chance and threw him down to the floor and began to wail on him; he got several punches in before Theo, Blaise, Charlie, Bill, and George grabbed them both and pulled them apart. Ron's nose was bleeding profusely and Draco had a small drip of blood coming from the side of his mouth.

"What is the matter with you both?!" Molly cried.

"His insinuation that I'd ever hurt Hermione is downright despicable!" Draco pointed a finger at the ginger, fighting against the hold Theo and Blaise had on him. Ron struggled against his brothers, too, obviously not ready to end the fight. George looked back and forth between them in disbelief.

"It's not such a leap!" Ron spat towards Draco. It landed on the floor with a sickening, bloody splat at his feet. "It wasn't too long ago you'd have hurt her for sport!"

"I definitely hurt her feelings. Frequently, it's true. But I would never _harm_ her-"

"What's so different now that you wouldn't? What's changed?"

"I'M IN LOVE WITH HER!" Draco roared.

The receptionist had a disapproving brow furrowed at the scuffle and half-stood, like she was ready to step in. Once Draco's words were out, leaving everyone speechless and immobile, she sat back down, still keeping an eye on the situation but sensing she wasn't quite needed any more.

Draco was panting, clearly upset by blurting out his feelings to people he didn't necessarily care for, but needing them to be on his side; to realize he wouldn't harm their precious Hermione because she was precious to him now, too. He couldn't take it if they lost faith in him. It was so obviously important to Hermione that he was accepted and made part of her family. If they started doubting him again, the damage could be irreparable.

"You what?" Ron asked, pissed at his outburst. Draco pursed his lips and looked away, feeling heat creep up his face as he blushed scarlet.

"I've been in love with her since I was fifteen years old," Draco said quietly, now looking down at the disgusting ball of spit on the floor. "She knows this. I've already told her. And miraculously, she loves me, too. I would never hurt her. I promise. I would never-"

"I know," Ginny came to stand by him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Despite what'd just happened, she looked proud of Draco for revealing his true feelings.

"Fifteen?" Ron said with disbelief. "If you were so in love with her, why would you continue to torment her? Or let your family _torture_ her in your own home? You could have done something!" Ron spat.

"I was surrounded by my family, Weasley! I couldn't just take them all on! It was _agony_ listening to Bellatrix hurt her! I was weak then but I'm not now! If I knew who did this I'd be out there right now making them pay!" Draco yelled, gesturing towards the exit to drive his point home.

"You don't have to defend yourself to Weasley, mate," Theo said, releasing him. "he could care less about the details. He's just jealous."

"Jealous?" Ron scoffed incredulously. "Of Malfoy?"

"Well yeah. It's obvious you're still into Hermione." Ron tried to protest but Theo went on. "But you need to get it through that thick skull, Weasley, that she's Draco's girl now,"

"No that's... She's my best friend, is all!" Ron stumbled over his words.

"It's true," Ginny pointed out, giving Ron a look when he tried to argue. "you've been acting like a jealous ex for weeks since they got together. I know you're hurting about what happened to her; we all are. But your feelings for her are clouding your judgment, Ron."

"My judgment is sound and my feelings go out to Lav and Lav alone. You're making things up that don't belong, Ginny." Ron said, trying to reign in his temper. "I'm worried, is all."

There was an uncomfortable, pregnant pause where no one really looked at one another. Molly and Arthur sat back down, leading most of the others to follow suit at their own pace.

"Let's just wait and see how she is," Molly said more to herself than anything. No one replied. The tension between everyone was too great to break it by arguing any longer.

"You want a coffee, mate? It might be a while..." Blaise asked Draco, who now sat between him and Theo with his head in his hands.

"Sure... sure..." he nodded, barely, and Blaise wandered off in search for caffeine.

"Should we call anyone for her? Does she have family?" Theo asked.

"I told you before, we're it," Ginny spoke directly to him for the first time since they broke things off.

"I meant, does she have parents of her own or-"

"We're all she has left, dearie," Molly cut him off so Ginny wouldn't. "Her parents didn't really survive the war. She was an only child,"

Theo said no more, feeling very sorry for Hermione.

Draco sniffed, swiping at the moisture under his eyes.

 _How had everything gotten so messed up?_

All he wanted to do was run to his witch and comfort her; he wanted to examine every inch of her body and make a catalog of her injuries so he could hurt whoever had done this by tenfold.

Draco wracked his brain trying to think if he'd seen anyone or anything out of the ordinary when he'd left the bedroom earlier. Closing his eyes, he recounted every detail.

He'd closed the door as he exited, made his way down the darkened halls until he'd arrived back at the ballroom. He met up with his friends, thinking nothing was askew and that she'd be down soon.

He never should have left her. How could he think it was okay? He knew how she felt about Malfoy Manor; he knew that, despite her brave face, she'd been reluctant to go to the ball in the first place. She'd put aside her qualms to support him and look what had happened as a result; potential scars across her beautiful body and hair chopped off. This wasn't random. No one who merely thought muggle-borns were trash would go to such lengths. It was an obvious attack meant to humiliate and terrify her and anyone she loved. The Auror's had to know that. They did, right? He'd mention it to Potter when he came back.

Who would be brave (or stupid) enough to do such a thing? At a very public event, for that matter. It would have to be someone who'd feel untouchable; someone who thought that even if they were caught, they wouldn't get in trouble or could get out of it easily.

Draco's first thought was Madame Pearlman. She seemed to think that, since she was practically pureblooded royalty, she didn't have to be held accountable for her actions. But then again, she wasn't that indiscreet when it came to things she'd had her hand in.

It couldn't be Latif because he'd noticed the insufferable man talking to his friends when he came downstairs.

There were so many members and distant relatives of the Sacred Twenty-eight families in attendance. Any of them could hold a grudge or vendetta against Hermione; she'd testified at numerous hearings and trials.

Draco remembered his own trial. She'd been there, of course, and spoke the truth of Draco lying about knowing who Harry was when the Snatchers had brought the trio to the Manor on that fearsome night so many years ago. She'd rang out his truth: he'd known who they all were and purposefully played dumb. Whether it was to buy them time, she hadn't known. But she could tell he'd been lying.

He'd never really thanked her for corroborating Potter's story. He'd always been too proud to mention it when they talked about the war. He had to tell her how grateful he was.

He hoped he got the chance to thank her.

Or love her, for that matter.

What if things went sour in surgery and she died? In all his medical training, he'd seen dozens of cases like hers where they thought the wounds were fixable only to have weird complications arise in surgery, ending in fatality.

 _No._

He had to have faith. Faith in whatever higher power that she'd be okay. He needed more time with her. They needed more time. They'd found a way to each other after so much darkness and pain. It'd been a struggle to get to this point but they'd made it through. And she loved him. She'd said it, right? He hadn't imagined it...?

Draco swiped at the tears that wouldn't stop coming. A handkerchief appeared in front of his face and he looked up.

"Potter?"

"Hey," the black-haired wizard said. He was still in his dress robes but his shirt was untucked and his tie undone. Draco took the small, white cloth in his hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Thanks,"

"Don't mention it," Harry said and sat down in Blaise's abandoned spot. "Any word?"

"She's still in surgery," Ginny piped up. "They suspect foul play. You may need to chat with Pinkerton, the Mediwitch."

"Will do," Harry stood, groaning from exhaustion. He murmured something Draco couldn't hear to Ginny before he made his way down the hallway towards the staff offices. Whatever he'd said made her blush. Theo repositioned himself uncomfortably.

Draco couldn't care about their petty love triangle right now, though. All he could do was pray; pray that Hermione would be okay and that she wouldn't be taken away from him as his mother had been.

...

Pinkerton and Harry came back a couple of hours later. He looked utterly relieved. Draco and the others stood at their arrival.

"Is she okay?" Draco begged. Pinkerton smiled.

"She made it through surgery well enough. All the damage has been healed properly, including the puncture to her kidney. She'll need to stay here a few days to heal up while her wounds close but she should be fine. We expect her to make a full recovery." Pinkerton gave Draco's arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you," he barely got out. The others all smiled and let out collective sighs of relief. Molly cried, hugging everyone in turn, including the Mediwitch, who patted her back kindly.

"Can we go in now?" Ginny asked.

"Not until the morning. She needs rest." Pinkerton said, putting her glasses away in her pocket once more.

"I don't want her to be alone—" Ginny began to argue.

"She won't be. She'll have Auror's posted outside her door at all times," Harry insisted. "They're on standby out in the general waiting room. They'll be in any minute."

"I'm not leaving," Draco stated. "I have to make sure she's okay."

"You can't go in there, Malfoy. You're a suspect," Harry said apologetically.

Draco didn't argue. He knew better. He'd been in trouble with the law enough to know their ways. He'd be patient until his name was cleared.

"I understand. But I'm not leaving her." He said firmly. "I'll stay out here all night if that's what it takes."

"That's no problem," Pinkerton said. "I'll have someone bring out blankets for anyone who'd like to stay."

"If you're staying, so am I," Theo said, clapping Draco on the back.

"No. I need you and Blaise to aid the Auror's in finding who did this. You two know the usual suspects better than anyone. It _has_ to be someone we're close with. Get in touch with Astoria and Max. They'll help you." Draco used his most authoritative tone. He hadn't ever bossed them before, usually reserving his imperiousness for those too idiotic to think for themselves, like Crabbe and Goyle. It had been many years since he had to employ that particular trait, though, and wasn't sure if they'd listen.

"We're on it," Blaise said without any hesitation. He dragged Theo along with him and they left.

"I haven't seen that side of you in quite some time," Ginny muttered. "But they fell in line easily enough."

"They'll be useful elsewhere more than here."

"You're probably right. I'm going to take my parents home but I'll be back at first light."

"You're not staying to protect her?" Draco looked at her quizzically.

"I see she has plenty of protection already," Ginny inclined her head towards him. Draco felt a swell of familial affection and pulled her into a quick embrace. She stiffened, not used to this side of him, but hugged him back.

"Thanks for believing in me, Gin," she pulled away and smiled.

"Any time," she replied and walked off to join her parents as they were leaving. Bill went with them, leaving Charlie, George, Ron, and Harry behind in the waiting room.

"We have work to do, come on," Harry pulled Ron up from where he'd been sitting. Ron looked ready to argue but Harry gave him a look. "You wanted to be reinstated. This is what it means to be an Auror. We have to put our own needs second."

"Ugh fine, let's go," Ron shot Draco a scathing look and begrudgingly left.

"I suppose I'll head out, as well. I have a theory I'd like to look into," Charlie said.

"Let me know if you find anything," Draco more asked than said. Charlie nodded and was gone.

"I guess it's just us, mate," George said.

"You're staying?"

"Of course. She's like a sister. One of us needs to be here. Besides, I can't leave you here alone,"

"Afraid I'll hurt her somehow?" Draco spat, rolling his eyes.

"No," George said, hurt evident in his voice. "Because you're my friend and you look like you need someone to be here with you. I never thought for a moment you'd hurt her. Especially not after what happened when Latif was at my shop. The way you ran after her when Teddy came looking for us... I'll never forget the panic in your eyes. No... you'd never harm her." He concluded. Draco felt embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, mate, I didn't mean-"

"You're under a lot of strain, I get it." George sat down and pointed to the seat next to him. "No hard feelings."

Draco sat and shot the man a relieved, tight smile.

"You think she's really okay?" Draco mused out loud.

"I don't think that cute little Mediwitch would say otherwise if she wasn't."

"True. I just... wish I could see her."

"I know. Me too." George sat back in his chair and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes. "May as well get some shuteye, I suppose."

"You go ahead. I'll wake you if anything happens."

"Roger that," George soluted. Within minutes, he'd fallen to sleep, leaving Draco to his own tortured thoughts.

This had been what Draco had feared; that somehow having her be a part of his world would put her in harm's way. He'd been right, of course, but he hated it. What could he do? Obviously being together was too dangerous for her. But he couldn't bear the thought of breaking things off.

Seeing her every day... living in that house with her had been the happiest time of his life. The last thing he wanted to do was give up his swotty Gryffindor...

No. He wouldn't let a faceless attacker scare him off. They'd figure it all out... together.

He was mentally going over a list of suspects when Pinkerton approached a couple of hours later with blankets.

"Thank you," Draco said appreciatively.

"He sure conked out easily." She mused, giving George a kind smile.

"I don't know how he does it." Draco marveled. "I can't seem to get my brain to shut up long enough to rest."

"I understand but let me just say this because it might help," she said in a quiet tone. "Hermione woke about fifteen minutes ago."

Draco's heart stuttered to a halt in his chest.

"She did?"

"It was only for a few minutes... long enough for her to know she was safe and in recovery."

"I'm so relieved..." Draco clutched his chest as his heart started once more.

"She couldn't form very coherent words but one was very clear: your name. I let her know you were nearby but unable to come in to see her. She closed her eyes, smiled, and fell back to sleep. If it helps, just knowing you're here for her was comfort enough to make her feel safe and relax." Pinkerton said with a soft smile.

Draco choked out a single sob but held the rest back.

She was alright.

And apparently, she still loved him, despite what happened to her.

Maybe she didn't blame him, like he thought she might. He still blamed himself, though.

"Thanks, doc," he said, unable to look at her too long. She smiled and draped the blanket over his shoulders.

"Try to rest now," she ordered gently. And like a moth to the flame, he closed his eyes and followed sleep into the oblivion of his own making where Hermione was the sun and he was unable to look away.

 ** **What did you all think so far? Things are getting quite complicated. But as you all know, Gryffindor's and Slytherin's can't always stay friends for too long. Ron certainly doesn't see Draco as a friend anymore, does he? Please let me know what you guys think. I love reading your thoughts!****


	36. Of Rubiks Cubes and False Hope

"Why did I need to be here?" Ron complained for the dozenth time. "I should be back at the hospital waiting for Hermione to wake up,"

"You're doing what's in her best interest right now, which is helping me catch whoever did this to her." Harry reminded again. He couldn't see it but he knew Ron must be rolling his eyes.

"What if Malfoy _is_ who did this to her? We're just gonna let him stay there and-"

"Ron!" Harry turned from the large hallway he'd been inspecting and cast his best friend a pissed, albeit wary, expression. "Do you think for a second that if I really thought it was Malfoy I would have let him stay there?"

The two men held each other's gaze. Ron, frustrated and Harry, exhausted. Their best friend in the whole world had almost been killed in the exact same place she'd been tortured in their youth. It wasn't something they could wrap their brains around but they had to rise above the torment of it all to help her. They'd always been her main defenders and this was no different. When it looked like Ron was sufficiently silenced on the matter, Harry turned back to looking for clues. They'd spent the last few hours scouring all the rooms and now the hallway of Malfoy Manor where Draco said they'd been earlier. The only trace of a struggle they'd found so far was a small smattering of blood on one of the runner carpets just south of Draco's childhood room.

"It was probably someone familiar with the house," Harry said, jotting down some notes with his muggle pen and pad.

"We think so, too," Theo's voice spoke up as he and Blaise came around the corner.

"Ah, Nott, Zabini. Find anything useful?" Harry asked.

"We collected the guest list and circled some of the more prominent members of the sacred twenty-eight families who have known grievances against you lot. As well as those who may not have made their opinions public but who we know to be, shall we say... haters?" Blaise held out a clipboard. Ron took it and began looking through it.

"Thanks," Ron said begrudgingly.

"No problem," Blaise said. "Anything we can do to catch this bastard,"

"You guys really care that much?" Ron sounded skeptical.

"Of course we do," Theo said. "Hermione's one of us, now."

"You're wrong," Ron said. "She's nothing like you."

"You mean to say she's not smart?" Blaise quirked a brow.

"Everyone knows how wicked intelligent she is," Ron scoffed.

"Then you're saying she isn't resourceful, clever, patient, lovable...?" Theo added.

"Lovable?" Ron pretended to gag. "You lot really think you're _lovable?_ "

"Ron, why don't you take the photos we have to Brunt and the others downstairs?" Harry handed Ron the camera. He didn't take it, at first. "That's an order," Harry added, seeing Ron's resolve wasn't going anywhere. His friend shot him a surprised look but said nothing further as he snatched the camera from Harry's outstretched hand and hurried down the hall.

"What a prat-" Theo began.

"Shut it, Nott." Harry held up his hand. "Do you have anything else that might be important?"

Theo regarded Harry with some minor loathing and shook his head.

"No. That's all for now, _Auror Potter_ ," Theo emphasized. Harry regarded him warily.

"Astoria and Max are doing their own digging, though." Blaise mentioned, reverting Harry's attention back.

"Fine. If you find out anything else, please don't hesitate to come find me or send an owl."

"Are you dismissing us?" Theo asked.

"Yes. This is a crime scene, after all," Harry shrugged.

"But we want to be of more help if we can," Blaise suggested.

"I thank you for that, but I have to follow the law. I allowed you access to the property to help out where you could but now you have to let the Auror's take over." Harry repositioned his glasses from where they'd slipped down his nose and sighed. "Thank you for everything so far," He added with a lot less authority.

Blaise gave him a curt nod and turned to leave but stopped short when Theo didn't budge.

"Is there something else, mate?" Blaise asked.

Theo seemed to be sizing up the dark-haired wizard in front of him.

"Look, Potter," Theo's eyes shifted to the side. "You know I'm not your biggest fan. Hell, I may go as far as to mention I probably hate you but," Theo met Harry's eyes. "I'm going to say something quite controversial and definitely out of character. This advice isn't coming anywhere from blossoming friendship or anything equally ridiculous like that..."

The wary expression Harry had given Theo earlier returned, his guard up, but he said nothing to deter the unwelcome comments of the wizard in front of him.

"You're more of a fool than I thought if you don't take Ginny back," he said after a beat. Blaise looked uncharacteristically surprised and Harry stood still as a statue for a moment, his shoulders tensed and his mouth slack.

"Nott, I don't think-"

Theo held up a hand to stop him.

"It's plain to see you're miserable without each other. Just swallow your pride. I know it's tough, being a __Gryffindor__ and all, but just do it." he said through his teeth as if it pained him to even say anything at all.

Harry smirked, looking quite the opposite of a Gryffindor in that moment and more like the cunning men in front of him.

"Thanks for the advice," was all Harry said, extending his hand to the taller wizard. Theo didn't take it but shot a smirk of his own at the Chosen One in response.

"Whatever," he said and finally turned away to join his friend. Blaise looked almost impressed by Theo and clapped him on the back as they left Harry alone in the corridor.

Harry lowered his hand slowly and went back to his notepad full of notes, flipping through it as a distraction, trying his hardest not to dwell on Nott basically giving him his blessing to pursue Ginny again...

A lot of good that did.

Since that kiss the other night, she was all he could think about. Hell, since Hogwarts, even. He'd never truly gotten over the copper-haired witch. He'd almost hated himself for it at times over the years. He'd wake up in the middle of the night and reach out for her. Or he'd read something outrageous in the Prophet and look around to see if she was there to share it with. These occurrences happened less and less as time went on, but they never fully stopped.

Even at Sunday dinners when they'd both be in attendance and one of the guys did something funny, he'd look to her to see if she was laughing, too.

Over the years, he'd collected every scrap of news about her when she was in a magazine or the Prophet. He even held on to a jumper she'd left hanging on the back of her dressing table... the one he'd gotten for her at their first Quidditch World Cup game they'd attended since Voldemort's return and demise. It was a green pullover with a four-leaf clover on the front; Ireland's insignia. The team had been spectacular but lost by fifty points. Harry and Ginny hadn't cared, though. It was nice to be able to just go do things and not have to worry that Voldemort could be around every corner to ruin them.

Harry thought back to when she'd left and what she'd said...

At the time, he'd been furious. All he wanted was to have a family with her and Teddy. What he'd failed to see was that he already did. Without realizing what he was doing, he'd given her an ultimatum, thinking she'd choose the life they'd built together. He never thought for a moment she'd consider the alternative.

How foolish he'd been.

All Harry knew was that Teddy was his first priority. He had to be.

Making Ginny give up her dream to do that wasn't something he ever thought he'd ask her to do. And looking back, he could see from her perspective what an absolute wanker he'd been to even try.

Besides, it wasn't as if she'd abandoned Teddy altogether. Any time she could carve out for him, she did. She was one of Teddy's favorite people in the world.

If Teddy could forgive her for putting her dreams first all those years ago... why couldn't he?

Harry shook out that thought. It wasn't so simple. There was way too much history between them to consider such a thing. It'd warrant loads of conversations. And he'd told her he'd make time for them to talk soon when he'd seen her at St. Mungo's...

Harry pocketed his notepad, abandoning the corridor and the lack of evidence it provided.

"Potter!" Brunt rounded the corner, holding up a lit wand. "This place is a horrid maze."

"I know, sir. Did Ron show you the photos?"

Brunt's mustache twitched.

"Photos?"

"Yes, of the crime scene up here? And where we found the small amount of blood?" Harry pointed to the carpet just in front of Brunt where there was a small scene marker placed next to the blood. Only, the blood was gone.

"I haven't seen Weasley since he came up here with you," his boss mentioned. "What blood, Potter?"

Harry knelt down, staring at the spot where Hermione's blood had been, and was perplexed to find it completely vanished.

"It was right here!" He pointed to the spot with his ballpoint pen. Brunt bristled and looked around.

"Anyone else been up here?"

"The other Auror's downstairs, of course, when they helped sweep the rooms. Nott and Zabini provided this suspect list but I watched them the whole time they were up here; they couldn't have tampered with anything. And Ron, of course. You're sure he didn't give the camera to you? I sent him your way, not half an hour ago..." Harry scratched the back of his head, making it stick up.

"Nope. He may have gotten lost. As I said, this place is a bloody maze,"

"He knew his way, sir," Harry assured him.

"Maybe he passed it on to another Auror. But that doesn't account for the blood going missing. Only a sweeper could do that. Or someone with the right potions but those are usually hard to come by." Brunt put a glove on and swept his hand over the carpet where the blood had been. "Not even a trace. Try your wand, Potter,"

Harry pulled out his wand.

" _Revelio_ ,"

He felt the magic course through the wand but nothing happened. Whatever secret was behind the blood disappearing wasn't due to anyone hiding nearby or by any enchantment he could think of.

"Bullocks," Brunt cursed. "Like this nightmare could get any worse."

"Maybe ask one of the cursebreakers up here," Harry suggested. "They're wicked resourceful and clever about these types of things."

"Good thinking, Potter. Come on,"

Harry followed Brunt down to the ballroom where the team of Auror's congregated, questioning suspects and gathering information.

"Will this investigation take much longer?" Madam Pearlman's bored voice drawled. "I'd like to get some shuteye at some point tonight." Brunt cursed under his breath.

"I told you, Madam, that this could take a few days. You're more than welcome to leave for the night. Rest assured, we'll take good care of the place."

"Preposterous!" Latif exclaimed, standing next to his Aunt. "This is our property now. I say you all leave at once,"

Under normal circumstances, Brunt would've let Latif know how arrogant he was being and knocked him down a peg. Harry could see how hard it was for his boss not to be, well, _bossy_ , with them.

"Unfortunately, this is an open investigation into the attack of a well-respected war heroin, ma'am. Your home is the scene of the crime. It will remain as such until the case is closed. Once we're certain we've collected every shred of evidence, then you'll have your home back. Until then, I suggest you take my superior's advice to go get some sleep. This is going to take some time." Harry said as pleasantly as he could muster.

Latif shifted uncomfortably and looked over to defer to his Aunt. Madam Pearlman's resolve wavered and Harry could almost see the fatigue behind the hard mask she always had her face schooled in.

"Fine. We'll be back first thing. That is if we're even allowed in our own home," she said, sounding as if she were scolding them all.

"Have a good night, ma'am," Harry bowed his head slightly. Pearlman regarded him like something dirty she'd stepped in and strode away, Latif hot on her heels.

"So diplomatic. That's why I keep you around, Potter." Brunt grunted.

"Not for my dashing looks and general dark wizard know-how, then?" Harry bantered. Brunt barked out a single laugh and clapped him on the back before striding away to rejoin the others.

Harry was glad Madam Pearlman and Latif had left. Being under a microscope was always hard during an investigation. And Pearlman being who she was and owning half of the English countryside made it even harder. No one wanted to be too direct with her, especially not when she had that intimidating staredown she was famous for. Harry, having been in numerous situations with people just like her, was used to it and never found himself truly affected anymore. He could see Brunt's point about his diplomatic responses. He didn't look at them that way, though. He just didn't find himself easily intimidated anymore. Not after everything he'd been through. He guessed that's what happened when you faced down the baddest wizard in the world and won.

Harry looked around for Ron, concern blooming in his chest.

He wasn't anywhere in the ballroom.

"Perkins," Harry interrupted the Auror as he was talking to a potential witness. Perkins excused himself and turned to Harry.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Have you seen Weasley around?"

"No. He dropped a camera off over there at the evidence table earlier, though."

"And then what? He just left?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Perkins looked around the room, too, coming up empty.

"If you see him, tell him to report back to me for more instruction. He shouldn't have left the facility." Harry said, all business. Perkins nodded.

"Will do,"

"Thanks, Perkins. As you were," Harry had an uneasy feeling in his gut. Ron would only take off for one thing...

"Brunt, I'm headed back to the hospital unless you need me for something else right now,"

His boss shook his head.

"Go, Potter. I hope Granger is doing better,"

"Me too," he replied and popped away, the feeling of apparating barely registering as his head swam with uncertainty.

...

"I'm not going to tell you again, sir."

"I'm her family. You have to let me in." the man's voice said, trying to be quiet.

"No, we don't. No visitors until morning, Healer Pinkerton's orders."

"But it ismorning, technically."

Draco knew that annoying voice anywhere. He stretched, the blanket around his shoulders falling slack behind him on the chair. Ron stood in front of the receptionist with two coffees and a pastry bag in his hands.

"C'mon! I even brought you a scone!"

"I can't be bribed, sir." The receptionist held firm.

"I'm an Auror, you know. I could arrest you for impeding an investigation-"

"Really, Weasley?" Draco drawled out, rolling his eyes. He noticed the clock behind the reception desk said half-past five, which meant he'd only slept a couple of hours. He felt it, too.

Ron whipped around and sneered.

"Mind your business, Malfoy."

Draco strode up to the desk and looked at the stern receptionist apologetically.

"Sorry about him, darling, he really has no manners. Here, a consolation prize for having to deal with such an imbecile," Draco handed over on of the coffees to her and then ripped the other out of Ron's hand for himself.

"Hey!"

"Ah, ah, no arguing so early in the morning," Draco scolded and tore the pastry out of Ron's hand, handing it to the woman as well. "For his loudness, please accept my apologies,"

The woman blanched but saluted him with her confiscated coffee cup a moment later. Draco saluted back and retook his seat next to George, who was still snoring soundly.

"You're a real git, you know that?" Ron spat and marched back out of the waiting room.

"I've been called worse!" Draco called after him as the doors swung shut behind the cranky ginger.

"Do I smell coffee?" George rumbled.

"Oh sure, mate, you wake for the smell of caffeine but not for your wanker brother making a nuisance of himself? Unbelievable."

"I'd like to think of it as selective awakening. It's a gift. I can sleep through the most annoying things..." George quirked up one side of his mouth in a cocky grin. Draco stared at him a second before something clicked.

"You were pretending to be asleep? I don't know if I'm more annoyed or impressed,"

"Choose to be impressed. I grew up with six brothers and a sister... plus a meddlesome mother. I had to develop these little tricks or I'd never get any peace." George grabbed the cup from Draco and took a pull. Draco's brow moved up a smidge at the impropriety but was more amused than anything.

"Right," Draco took the coffee back and took a large drink as well. "as someone with no siblings, I have no sense for that type of thing."

"Count yourself lucky, mate. Fewer siblings, fewer problems." George said, but Draco saw how much he didn't mean it. Whenever the topic of conversation got anywhere near Fred, George deflected in the only ways he knew; humor, hijinx, and sarcasm were the bread and butter to his life, now.

"Any word?" George asked, stretching his limbs as far as they would go.

"Pinkerton said a few hours ago that Hermione woke for a few minutes," Draco smiled to himself remembering she'd asked for him.

"Thank Merlin," George said and grabbed the cup for another swig.

"Hey!"

"You can't complain about someone stealing some of your already stolen coffee, Malfoy. Besides, didn't your mother ever teach you it was nice to share?"

"No, not really," Draco said automatically. George quirked a brow but left the subject untouched.

The two men sat in silence for a while, passing the coffee cup back and forth. George eventually pulled a small puzzle cube from his pocket and fidgeted with it for some time before Draco asked, "What is that thing, George?"

"It's a muggle game. They call it a Reuben Cube, I think. My Dad gave it to me. I can't figure it out, though,"

"What's to figure out? It's a cube with a bunch of different colored squares on it..."

"I guess you're supposed to turn it all about until there's a solid color on each side," George revealed. Draco was flabbergasted.

"Impossible," he murmured.

"Not so. Hermione solved it once to prove it to me," George said. "I do hate when she's right, sometimes." Draco grinned.

"I used to hate it, too, the little swot."

"And now?"

"Now I just look forward to her telling me off or letting me know when I'm wrong about something." Draco drank the remainder of the coffee and got up to discard the cup in the trash.

"You've got it bad for her, huh?" George waggled his brows.

"Yeah, I suppose I do."

"So it's true, then? You really do love her?" George let his hands holding the colorful cube settle into his lap as he waited for Draco's answer.

"Yes."

George whistled low.

"Who'd have thought, huh? You, a Malfoy, and her, a muggle-born. The odds of you lot getting together must be less than a niffler not liking loot."

"I know. And trust me, I know the dangers of this. Especially now with her being so hurt. I just want to protect her from all those bigoted people but realistically, I know I can't be at her side twenty-four/seven."

"She wouldn't want you to be," Harry said, suddenly appearing inside the swinging doors without their notice. "She's a pretty independent person, Malfoy."

"I know," Draco said solemnly. "I won't change that, not that I really could."

"Good," Harry said simply and looked at George. "You're carrying around the Rubiks Cube again?"

"Rubik?" Draco asked.

"The name of the cube," Harry pointed at George's hands.

"I thought it was Reuben?"

"Nope,"

"Wait, then who's Reuben?" George asked.

"You tell me," Harry said.

"The cube?" Draco offered.

"No, no, it's called a Rubiks Cube," Harry said once more.

"But what happened to Reuben?" George looked concerned.

"I'm confused," Draco narrowed his eyes at the cube.

"As am I," George confessed but kept turning the cube a dozen different directions, dropping the subject.

Draco exchanged an exasperated glance with Harry and shrugged.

Pinkerton came strolling in before another word was spoken.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she smiled but looked exhausted. Her bright pink hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her makeup looked askew. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and her lime-green Healers jacket looked crinkled around the arms where you could tell she'd been pushing up her sleeves all night.

"Morning," The three echoed, coming to attention.

Pinkerton smiled softly.

"There's been quite a bit of activity over the last few hours regarding Miss Granger," she started.

"I heard she woke. That's wonderful," George said.

"She did?" Harry asked, smiling.

"She did, but," Pinkerton looked apologetic. "shortly after she woke, she fell back asleep again. We thought nothing of it until around four-thirty when her stats started dropping,"

Draco felt like he was moving in slow motion. He walked past Pinkerton, barely hearing her protests to wait as he strode through the doors to the private medical wing in search of Hermione. He had no idea which room she was in but didn't care. He had to see her; had to know she was okay...

Each door he came across, he looked into the tiny window to see if she was inside. He must have looked into twenty doors or so before he stopped dead in his tracks at the end of the hall and looked through the final window.

 _There she is._

Only she didn't look to be recovering. On the contrary; she looked rather close to death.

Draco slowly opened the door, his hands trembling. The small lamp at her bedside table illuminated the room in a golden glow but did nothing for Hermione's pale complexion.

Her skin looked sallow, so unlike the rosy cheeks she often adorned. Her mouth was open slightly to allow some sort of tube to be shoved into it. Her breathing came out in even, steady breaths but it didn't appear it was her lungs doing the work, but the breathing contraption in her throat. The cuts were closed but still appeared like little welts all over her body as far as he could see. And her hair... Draco could hardly stomach to look. He strode in slowly, unable to help himself, and grabbed one of her hands with his own while his other settled over her hairline, which was now missing its length. It was cut so short, it was almost shaved. In a couple of places, where the charm must have brushed against her scalp, there were scabs that would surely turn into scars.

"Hermione?" His voice was alien to him; small and broken-sounding. So unlike the confident tone he used for his everyday life.

"She can't answer," Pinkerton said quietly from the door, where she was standing with Harry and George. "She slipped into a coma in the night. I think maybe it's her own mind protecting itself. Whatever happened to her must have been very traumatic, indeed."

"What went wrong? You said she woke up, that she'd be fine-!" Draco's voice raised accusingly at the Healer.

"We couldn't have foreseen this. The surgery went smoothly enough with no complications. But you know better than anyone how quickly our bodies can turn on us."

"What're you saying?" Harry asked. "Will she wake up?"

"Only she can determine that," Pinkerton said sadly. "You're more than welcome to sit and talk to her."

"Will she even hear us?" George asked. Pinkerton smiled at him and shrugged.

"Even witches and wizards haven't figured out that truth yet; the brain is a very big mystery to all who study medicine. Some people who wake from a coma report they could hear everything. Others say they couldn't but had vivid dreams. I'd like to think maybe they did hear but their brains simply forget. Like obliviation." She paused, looking hopeful. "It's hard to know for sure. But it can't hurt."

"Thanks, Healer Pinkerton," George said.

"Please... call me Ruby," she said. George nodded, taken aback, and shot her a grin.

"I have my morning rounds and then I'm off until this evening," Ruby mentioned. "But please don't hesitate to send me an owl should you have any questions or concerns."

"Do the staff have a list regarding who's allowed to visit or...?" Harry asked her as they walked out of the room and down the hall.

The room was blanketed in quiet, the only noise coming from the machines that monitored Hermione's vitals and breathing.

"You alright, mate?" George asked after a few minutes. Draco had taken the chair next to Hermione's bedside a moment earlier. He was now staring at the ground, his hands steepled in front of his face.

"Nothing about this is alright," Draco's eyes betrayed his usually strong demeanor as tears ran down his face. George stepped behind him and squeezed his shoulder in solidarity.

"I know mate,"

"It just... reminds me of things I'd rather forget," Draco scrubbed a hand down his face.

"Your mother," George said matter-of-factly. Draco looked up at him sharply.

"...yes." He replied reluctantly.

"Hermione isn't your mom, mate. Her situation is completely different."

"Yes and no. My mother wasn't attacked before her illness but she slipped into a coma after a time, which is why I made my rounds all over the world again looking for a cure; I knew I wouldn't be missed and she wouldn't suffer traveling from place to place with me."

"Hermione is strong. She'll pull through this," George offered.

"My mother used to be the strongest person I knew," Draco admitted. "She had a ferocity that was unmatched by any woman I've ever met. That is, until Hermione..." he said, the realization a surprise to even himself as he said it. He held Hermione's hand in his own, the guilt and grief like a pair of thick, wool socks stuck in his throat. "I just... I wish I hadn't left her alone,"

"Why did you?" George asked. And it occurred to Draco he hadn't really told anyone yet.

"We were... erm... fooling around. We stopped it before it got too far, though. She requested I let her freshen up before she met me back downstairs." Draco shrugged. "It was such a harmless interaction,"

"You're right, it was." George shrugged. "It was something completely normal that Hermione would have insisted upon. Whoever did this probably followed you guys and waited for their moment to strike."

"Excuse me, sirs," One of the medical staff popped her head in the door. "There are some other visitors for Miss Granger but the private wing only allows a couple of people at a time, so..."

"Who's here?" George asked.

"I believe a few of the family members," the girl said. She didn't look to be much older than seventeen or eighteen. Draco ventured she was probably an intern like he'd been a few years back.

"I'll go switch with someone. You stay," George suggested.

"No, I..." Draco stood and looked down at Hermione's pale figure before glancing back at George and the intern. "I need to be doing something. I can't just sit here while whoever did this to her goes free."

"I'm not sure how much you can do, mate," George shrugged.

"I may not be an Auror but I can do some digging of my own." Draco's eyes darkened, thinking back to some of his seedier contacts he'd have to get in touch with to retrieve information. "I'd just like to tell my girl goodbye first if that's alright?"

George patted Draco on the back once and exited the room with the young woman to give them privacy.

Draco sighed and gazed once more at the broken, beautiful girl in front of him. Aside from the grotesque machines that kept her alive while her body healed, she could have simply been sleeping. Her full lashes rested against her cheek as she slumbered away.

Ruby Pinkerton was right, no one really knew what someone could or couldn't hear in a coma. But he had to try, right? He had to let her know he was fighting for her. With a big breath, he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers and launched into a speech he hoped would reach her.

 ** **Intrigue!****

 ** **Wow! So many new followers in the last week! Welcome! And thank you to everyone who has been following this fic in the almost year since I started it! If you didn't know, this is actually my very first story I've ever written in terms of fanfiction. *GASP* I know! Such shock! I do hope it's easy to read and understand. A special shoutout has to go to AryaxXxEragon, HarryPGinnyW4Eva, ElizColl, Snowflake Dazzle, puasluoma**** **** ** **, and the random guests who visit for being so kind as to write reviews on most of the chapters! It's so much fun to read what you all think might happen or see your point of views!****


	37. Another Failed Attempt

Hermione felt his fingertips touch her face. The other still held her left hand. She tried to squeeze his slender fingers; the ones she thought must know how to play piano, they were so long, but to no avail. Her body wouldn't work for her. Her eyes seemed glued shut and her limbs may as well have been made of stone.

"Hello, love," Draco said so quietly she thought she imagined it. "Can you hear me?"

 _Draco! Yes! I'm right here!_

"That Healer lady said you might be able to," he paused. "You know, when I worked here some time ago, I saw many witches and wizards come and go with all sorts of injuries and diseases. Some were easy to diagnose and treat. But a select few weren't so lucky. As an intern, I didn't get to do much hands-on work. I mainly helped the Healers with grunt work and occasionally sat with patients to comfort them. I comforted my mother, too, while she was here... when they tried to figure out what was wrong with her."

 _Oh, Draco..._ How she wished she could comfort him; to pull him close and touch that feather-soft hair...

"It's actually why I decided not to pursue medicine anymore. I don't think I ever told you that, did I?" Draco chuckled in a strange tone. It was almost humorous but for the hint of loneliness underneath. "When it was clear she needed real medical attention, I convinced her to come here. She resisted, of course; she was still a pariah in society at the time and didn't want people to stare or think she was getting what she deserved. But I was almost all the way through the program here; I'd seen enough to know she couldn't let her pride get the better of her. She was here for three months before they finally deemed her malady a curse; one the likes none had seen here before. They advised me to get in contact with medical professionals around the world. I can't even recall all the names or amounts of Healers and muggle doctors we contacted or went to see.

I think Romania was the worst. My parents had ties with a lot of pureblooded families there who were Voldemort supporters. But most had lost the majority of their fortunes as a result of the fallout of the war. These families blamed my parents who were in charge of recruiting the magical communities in Romania during the first wizarding war. So naturally, it was a pickle getting out of there with our lives. My mother, even in her diminished state, looked so tall and proud standing up to them. She applied to their compassion and, naturally, threw my father under the bus for most of their misfortunes. Which, honestly, wasn't a complete lie; he was the one who collected the most contributions." Draco's laugh turned bitter with the memory. "Once the Romanians found out mother was dying, they backed right off and let us go home. That's when..."

Draco's reluctance to talk about his mother was clear. Even before, when he'd come to live in her home and she'd discovered why he'd needed a place to stay, he wasn't keen on sharing much. And how could she blame him when she'd also had her own secrets involving her parents?

"My mother fell into a coma not long after we came home. I know it can be common in cases of trauma but... I can't help but think it's linked; her curse and your attack. I just know it, somehow. Call it a hunch or a feeling... It can't be a coincidence that both women, whom I love more than anything, are forced to suffer so greatly, can it?" He asked, knowing she'd have no answer for him. If only he knew...

"I searched high and low for whoever cursed my mum... but came up empty every time. Even today, I have a private investigator searching for someone to blame or any trace of a cure for what ailed her. It's cost me more than I ever expected. It's also a big reason why I needed to stay with you and Gin. You were so inquisitive about my finances; so completely boggled why I was so dried up but still willing to spend money on that dress...

I'm sorry I never explained it before, Hermione, but I lied to you when I said I had any sort of nest egg. I'm so completely tapped out due to the P.I. that I ended up putting your dress on the Black tab, which technically doesn't even exist anymore, and who knows when I'll be able to pay it back. Hell, I might already be getting letters from that shop, I don't know. I just... wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve the world, ya know? Ugh..." he sighed heavily. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry, love, I..." He broke off again and Hermione thought maybe he was crying. His hand in hers shook slightly like his body was wracked with sobs.

"I swear, I'll find whoever did this to you. Just do me a favor, Granger? Hold on. Don't slip away as my mother did. Stay the strong woman I know you to be so we can figure this out." His voice was thick with emotion. "Potter, Weasley, and the whole damn Auror Department is looking into it. None of us will stop until this monster is caught and brought to justice," Now Draco's voice was soft, almost lethal-sounding. If she could, it might've made her shiver, bringing back memories of her old enemy instead of the man she loved now. "I may have to talk to some pretty scary people to get to the bottom of this. I may have to even do bad things. I hope you can forgive me,"

 _Please don't put yourself in danger because of me, I beg you. You have no clue who you're dealing with..._

"I think I hear the others coming. I'm going, for now. But I'll be back as soon as I can."

Hermione felt his lips brush against her forehead, right near a sore spot. But he was gentle enough and the kiss ended way too soon.

 _Don't go..._

"I love you," he whispered just as footsteps could be heard approaching.

The sudden chill of his hand leaving hers shook her to her core. She wished he would stay by her side. If those people came back for her, she'd be defenseless...

"Draco, dear, have you slept at all?" _Molly._

"A bit. Not enough, though, I'd wager, with a comment like that." Draco tried to joke with her.

A brief pause and some whispered words Hermione couldn't quite hear.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I'll be by later. Please take good care of her."

"We will," _Oh, Ginny..._

The room was quiet for a small while after Dracos footsteps tapped away. Hermione had no clue if the two women had left with him or if maybe she was losing her hearing.

"She looks peaceful," Ginny remarked. "but in dire need of some TLC..."

"I don't think there's much to be done about that until she wakes, dear," Molly commented.

The two women fell into silence again. Hermione could bet they were probably just sitting and waiting impatiently.

 _Come on, you dumb, lifeless, limbs... move!_

Hermione tried to will her body to do something. Anything. She wanted them to know she was still in there and knew who her assailants were...

Sometime later, it could have been minutes or hours, a woman's voice broke the silence.

"Good afternoon," chills went up Hermione's spine.

 _That voice..._

"Ah, hello," Ginny greeted.

"What're you knitting, Mrs. Weasley?" The woman asked as if she were friendly with the women at her side.

"A hat for Hermione. Now that all her... beautiful brown hair is gone... I thought her head might be a wee bit chilled." Molly said.

"How thoughtful,"

 _My hair is gone? Oh yeah, that happened when they-_

"It's nearly finished already, mum. You may want to switch the colors again," Ginny suggested.

"Periwinkle and pink, how pretty," the woman mentioned. "When she wakes up, we'll be able to give her a potion for more rapid hair growth,"

 _Who is that? She sounds so familiar,_

"Thank goodness," Molly blew out a breath.

"I just came to check Miss Granger's vitals,"

"Go ahead, dear, we can wait outside."

 _No._

"I think I'll stay back," Ginny said.

 _Thank Merlin for best friends._

"No problem, it won't take but a moment,"

Feet shuffling. A door closing. _Molly must have left._

"What's that you're giving her?" Ginny asked a minute later.

"Pain medication," the woman revealed. "We can't know what sort of pain she might be in after the surgery.

"Won't being in the coma prevent her from feeling any pain?"

"Not necessarily. If she's even a little conscious, she'd be in pain soon. Her last round of drugs are nearly worn off,"

 _Is that why my head hurts so badly?_

"Oh," was all Ginny said.

Hermione felt a tickle up her arm and then a small prick in the crease of her elbow.

 _Ouch! I thought Mediwitches and Healers didn't have use for needles?_

"There. Now she'll sleep soundly with zero pain," the woman informed.

 _Sleep? No! I need to stay awake. I need to figure out who you are. I don't trust you!_

"Isn't she already?"

"Yes and no. It's difficult to explain."

Hermione heard scribbling of some kind and then started feeling very drowsy.

Somewhere something kept making a beeping sound that grew faster over time but she could barely hear it.

"Someone get some help!" Ginny's yell broke through the fog at such a distorted level, she thought she imagined it.

 _I'm so tired. What did that woman give me?_

But she wouldn't find out. Not yet. Because sleep was starting to sound so good and she had no will to fight it any longer.

...

" _Fuck,_ " Harry cursed under his breath. "How could this have happened?"

"I don't know!" Ginny was crying, holding herself off to the side.

"No one thought to question someone they didn't recognize?" Harry practically snarled at the half dozen or so Mediwitches and Healers that were lined up outside of Hermione's room.

"Do you know how many patients and their families come and go through this place? Only certain wards are magicked closed or restricted. Private patient rooms have only one line of defense and that's the receptionist. If they deem someone unwelcome, it alerts the wards on the rooms and they're magically closed." Ruby Pinkerton, who'd come back immediately upon hearing of the attack on Hermione, said to Harry quickly to try and diffuse the situation. "She must have been a past employee. It's the only explanation to how she knew her way around or knew how to gain access."

"Your receptionist on duty is being taken to the Ministry for questioning. I suggest you get a replacement in here immediately," Harry snapped.

"Of course," Ruby assured him.

Harry looked around at the other medical staff.

"If any of you have any information I suggest you step forward," he demanded. He couldn't recall being so infuriated in recent years. The thought that anyone could just waltz into Hermione's room and administer a drug to her made his skin crawl.

Luckily, Ginny had been there. As soon as Hermione's vitals began to drop, the witch who'd supposedly been recording said vitals and administering pain medication tried to dash out after feigning a call for help. Ginny hexed her immediately but the damage had been done.

It seemed whoever attacked Hermione at the ball hadn't intended on her surviving. The second attempt on her life left Harry feeling more than helpless... he felt enraged. He wasn't used to feeling that way anymore. It brought up terrible, haunting memories of his youth.

"I'm sorry, sir," an intern who looked like a tiny, shaking dog said as his eyes fell on her with scrutiny. "I don't know anything."

The others said much the same.

It was an assassination attempt, then. Unless someone here wasn't speaking truthfully.

"If any of you are holding back anything important to the case, and it's found out later? I'll charge you with impeding an investigation and make sure the highest sentence is carried out. Meaning Azkaban, most likely,"

"Harry," Ginny gave him a warning. He looked at her distraught features; tear-stained cheeks and red blotches around her eyes made her look younger, somehow. Almost fragile. And she was anything but, making it hard to take in.

"Once the Auror's are done doing their sweep, you'll all be questioned more extensively. Vertitaserum isn't normally used often, but in high profile cases such as these, it's not uncommon. We have all your names and information now so no leaving the premises until after an Auror dismisses you. Do you all understand?" He asked. The staff all gave each other looks of anxiety but nodded their agreement. "Then you're dismissed,"

They all dispersed except Ruby.

"I can't be sorry enough that this happened," she said, shoving her hands in the pockets of her lime-green jacket. "It's quite an unheard-of situation here, really,"

"That doesn't make it okay," Harry gritted his teeth.

"Of course it doesn't. But I'm sorry all the same."

"There was supposed to be an Auror posted outside the door. Where did he go?" Ginny asked.

"I'm not sure," Harry said uncomfortably. "and that worries me. If whoever did this has a link inside the Auror Division..."

"It means they could get to her at any time," Ginny finished. "We means we can only trust who we know."

"Exactly."

"Has Mr. Malfoy been contacted about what happened?" Ruby asked.

"Oh no..." Ginny immediately looked guilty. "I forgot. He left right before it happened."

"He did? Why? I didn't think he'd leave her side for an instant,"

"He mentioned doing his own research into who could've attacked her last night," Ginny shrugged. "said it wasn't the type of lead Auror's could follow."

"That idiot," Harry grunted.

"I'll inform him," Ruby promised. Harry nodded.

"Have you caught up with Ron yet?" Ginny asked.

"No," Harry rolled his eyes. "Every time I get close, like checking in at the Ministry or the Manor, he's just been there and already left. I don't get it,"

"Draco said he came in early this morning trying to see Hermione, but that the receptionist told him to bugger off," Ginny said.

"He arrived too early before we were allowing visitors. He left right before I came out to talk with you lot about Hermione's condition." Ruby mentioned to Harry.

"See? We've been missing each other all day since he left the Manor last night. Like passing ships in the night..."

"Maybe he's gone rogue as Draco has?" Ginny thought to suggest, but she didn't look like she believed her own idea.

"All I know is that Brunt is going to have my head for losing him in the first place,"

"Why?" Ginny asked, looking concerned.

"All Auror's get paired with Senior officers after receiving an official offer of employment from the Ministry. Their solely responsible for all the new Auror's actions until their probation is complete," Harry said.

"I thought Ron said he was fully reinstated?" Ginny asked.

"He is but for a few more hours to go on his Partner training. I'm his partner, so I'm to blame if he doesn't show up soon," Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair.

"I'm sure he'll show," Ginny said, putting a hand on his bicep. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. It was like a healing balm, causing his body to heighten and relax all at once.

"Luckily there wasn't much damage to Hermione, physically, due to how quickly someone got to her," Ruby reminded them. "But we won't know what sort of deficits she could've incurred mentally."

"Do you mean, like... her memory?" Ginny asked, squeezing where she still had her hand on Harry's arm.

"Unfortunately, yes,"

Harry exchanged a look with Ginny. Hermione not being Hermione anymore? Preposterous.

"Potter!" Brunt broke the moment with his usual bark. He was marching down the hall looking rather disheveled.

"I'll be right back," Harry assured Ginny.

Brunt was in a foul mood. That's what happened when you didn't sleep. This case was high profile, due to who Hermione was and how it had all started at such a publicized ball. Brunt looked fit to be tied, he was so frustrated and grumpy. Harry briefed him on all that he knew and then Brunt dismissed him.

"I'll take patrol in front of her room," Harry suggested.

"No, I meant dismissed as in go home." Brunt said. "Everyone has to take turns going home to sleep for a few hours. Even though she's your friend-"

"My _best friend_. Who someone just attacked-!"

"-you still have to rest at some point. Perkins will take watch." Brunt finished.

"But sir!"

"That's an order, Potter!" Brunt laid down the law, quite literally, leaving Harry furious once again.

Brunt marched off to fetch Perkins from the waiting room.

"I heard," Ginny said behind him. "I'm sorry,"

"Please," Harry held up his hand. "I don't need any more apologies from you. Honestly, I can't hear one more heartfelt word,"

Ginny looked like she'd been slapped. Instead of replying, she marched passed him out into the waiting room, too.

Harry followed her, wanting to clear up what he'd just said seeing as how it looked like she'd taken it wrong, but, to his surprise, saw the waiting room full of all his friends and family, rendering him speechless. Luna and Rolf, Neville, Molly and Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Dean, Seamus, and George. Hell, even Percy was there. Once he was spotted, everyone got to their feet to greet and ask him questions.

"All we know is that her attempt failed, thanks to Ginny's quick thinking." He mentioned and the red-haired witch looked back at him from where she was standing with her parents. The group all congratulated Ginny on catching a bad guy. "Now there's some speculation about there being a mole inside the Auror Department. Because of that, I can only trust those in this room to guard Hermione until whoever did this to her is brought to justice." Everyone began talking at once again and Harry held up his hands. "Please, I need you all to make a schedule for who can take up guard duty and when,"

"This is quite unorthodox," Percy mentioned.

"I know. But until we figure out what's happening, I only trust the people in this room not to harm her," He said. "And I can't help with it because I've been relieved from duty until I can get some sleep,"

"We're on it, Harry," Luna said softly.

"Thank you," he nodded once then reached for Ginny's hand. "C'mon, I have to talk with you,"

Ginny hesitated but took his hand. Not long after, they were disapparating back to Grimmauld Place.

 ** **Trouble's afoot! And honestly I've been having the hardest time not posting chapter after chapter, it's getting so intriguing! xoxo****


	38. Giving In

****Bonus chapter woooo! I got too excited and couldn't wait to post this one. (Warning! Smut ahead!)****

"What is there to discuss?" Ginny asked as Harry pulled her into the foyer of Grimmauld Place. "You said you didn't want to hear apologies anymore, Harry. But honestly, it's all I have to give,"

Harry shrugged out of his robes and hung them on a hook near the door then headed to the sitting room. "I didn't mean for what I said to come out so harsh. I'm afraid you mistook my meaning."

"Oh really? Because all you seem to want to do since the last time I was in this house is dismiss me and my feelings," she said as she followed him in. Harry looked at her apologetically.

"What I meant was that... you don't _need_ to apologize anymore. I do,"

Ginny looked taken aback but gestured with her hand for him to go on. Harry began to pace the lifeless room covered in case boxes and dust.

"I heard what you had to say, Gin. Really, I did. I know you're sorry. I know you regret the way we ended things. I do, too." Harry sighed heavily, coughing a little as he inhaled dust.

"It means a lot that you can see we were both in the wrong. That's all I ever wanted,"

"The thing is," Harry conjured a glass of water and chugged it to relieve the coughing before he went on. "you're all I can think about since the other night when you came here,"

Ginny approached him warily like she'd get stung if she moved too quickly.

"I keep telling myself this won't work; that there's too much bad blood and history but..."

"But?" Ginny inquired. Harry regarded her with something akin to defeat.

"I don't want to fight this anymore," he gestured between them and disappeared his glass. "I still love you, Gin."

It was like the breaking of a dam.

Ginny launched herself at him, capturing his lips. He kissed her back with fervor, their teeth practically clashing as he forced her mouth to part for him with his tongue. Ginny sighed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and pulling his tall frame down towards her so she could access him better. He spun them around, pushing her flush against a wall and kissed her face and neck feverishly.

Ginny's hands fisted in his messy black hair as his mouth claimed the sensitive spot behind her ear and his hands roamed all over her body. In one single move, he'd unzipped her jumper and had it halfway down her arms. She let it fall, her head leaning back against the wall as he peppered wet kisses on the swell of her breasts now peaking out from her tank top.

"I guess everyone was right," she murmured, running her hands through his hair.

"About what?" Harry asked between kisses.

"I didn't dare believe them," she whispered. "but it's true; you've been missing me." Harry halted his ministrations and raised his head eye level with her.

"There was never a day I didn't. Not for one second." He admitted freely. She smirked and claimed his mouth once more.

In another quick motion, Harry pulled her shirt over her head and groaned with appreciation. Ginny hardly ever wore bras, her breasts not being more than a handful each. Today was no different, which made it easier for him to ravage her. He took one of the small, pebbled peaks in his mouth, eliciting a small gasp from her.

"It's been too long," she whispered wistfully. "take me upstairs."

Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He held her steadfast and apparated them up to his room. As their feet collided with the floor, he let them fall back onto his bed with a small _huff_ and giggle from Ginny.

"That was slick," she laughed teasingly. Harry chuckled and captured her in another kiss, their tongues dancing in harmony.

They kissed a few moments longer before Harry pulled back, standing at the edge of the bed. He tore off his shirt and shoes, shucking out of his trousers, only leaving his briefs on. Ginny drank him in. His body had changed quite a bit since they'd last made love. His biceps were larger, his thighs thick and strong. She knew he had to stay in shape to be an Auror but his fitness was ridiculously attractive.

Along with the good came the bad, though. He had several curse scorches on his ribs and a few rogue scars over the rest of him that were unfamiliar to her. She sat up, fingertips gliding over the scraggly lines on his torso. Harry looked at her impassively, not sure how she'd react.

"Harry," She whispered, looking distressed.

"Shh," he smiled weakly. "I'm okay," Ginny leaned forward, pressing her lips to the healed scars. Harry tensed at first but relaxed into her touch quickly as she let her hands wander over the body that now, blessedly, belonged to her once more. When she skimmed over the waistband of his briefs, he stilled her hand.

"Not yet," He said. "I want to savor you."

Ginny blushed crimson and it pleased Harry to know he could still make her blush after all this time.

He slowly removed her shoes and socks, then her leggings and underwear, leaving her bare in front of him. Like a starving man, he drank her in, still not believing she was his again. He slowly eased her back onto the bed, kissing her everywhere. Her jaw, her collar bone, her shoulders. He worshipped each breast in turn before leading his slow kisses down her ribs and stomach, where small, almost-formed abs peaked out.

"You've been training a bit," He mentioned. She nodded.

"Auror's aren't the only ones who have to keep in shape," she said, a smile in her voice.

Harry hummed appreciatively and moved lower, kissing her hip bones and nipping at her waist. Ginny squirmed when he brushed a hand over her sex. She leaned up on her elbows to get a closer look. Harry's green eyes pierced through her over his glasses, which he quickly set aside before he spread her legs wide, letting the tips of his fingers whisper over the skin of her inner thighs. Her legs quivered, the anticipation too much. Harry didn't make her wait any longer. He leaned his head forward and kissed the mound at the apex of her legs first before diving right in to her slick opening with his tongue.

"Oh," She moaned, letting herself fall back among the soft sheets.

Harry made a meal of her, licking and nipping at her sensitive core while she dragged her fingernails along his scalp. He hissed but kept going, chasing her inevitable orgasm. Before he could get her too close, though, she pulled his hair enough to signal him upwards. He looked at her inquisitively, loving the heavy-lidded lust in her beautiful eyes.

"More," She begged. Harry beamed up at her, loving her need for him. He hadn't felt affection in too long. He couldn't get enough.

"Just one thing before I take you over completely," he whispered. She sat up, looking down at him with bated breath.

"Tell me," she insisted as he made her wait. He smoothed out the length of her ginger locks behind her ears with both hands before resting them on either side of her face.

"Promise me this is real. Because you're it for me, Gin. I don't want anyone else. I never will. If you don't feel the same or if you want to change your mind again, this can't continue." Without any hesitation, she grabbed him around the shoulders and held him tightly to herself before kissing him over and over.

"I promise. I promise. I promise." She said between kisses. It was all the reassurance he needed.

Harry made quick work of removing his briefs and leaned over her across the bed. In one languid movement, he was inside her. She called out his name and they rocked gently together, worshipping one another, for the hours that followed. Neither of them keeping track of time or caring when the sun started setting on the day.

...

Ginny woke to the sound of Harry breathing underneath her. She was laying sprawled over his chest, her head just over his heart. Their legs were entwined and her arm was draped over his torso while his was wrapped securely around her back.

 _It wasn't a dream..._ She thought happily to herself and stretched her tired limbs.

It was difficult to see anything, as the afternoon had turned to evening in the hours of their lovemaking and sleep. Ginny turned to where Harry still kept the same alarm clock he'd always had to discover it was half-past nine.

"Harry?" Ginny kissed his cheek to wake him.

"Hmm," he grumbled but didn't open his eyes.

"We should get up, it's pretty late."

Harry's arms grew tighter around her as he flipped her on her back and hovered above.

"Oof!" Ginny let out a startled breath and grinned up at him.

"Let's stay a bit longer," he said, his growing need rubbing against her now overly sensitive mound. She let out a small gasp and grabbed his shoulders.

"I want to," she whispered and kissed him slowly, pouring out all her longing desire for him. "but we have to get back to reality. Our friends are counting on us,"

"Us," Harry tested the word. "I like the sound of that." Ginny flipped them over, her naked body pressed against his in a purposefully tantalizing manner.

"Me, too. Just think of all the lost time we have to make up for," she kissed his nose and then down his face and neck, traveling all the way down his torso and stomach. She hesitated at the dark mess of curls on his abdomen and licked her lips before sheathing her teeth and taking his length in her mouth. Slow and gentle.

Harry gasped audibly. "You said-"

"I know," Ginny said after she pulled up. "But I can't resist when you look at me that way. Besides, I want you to have a little memory to miss me by,"

"Trust me, I have plenty,"

Ginny shrugged, cocking a brow. "One more can't hurt. Plus I don't hear you complaining," she said and before he could get another word in she was flicking her tongue across the tip of his most sensitive part and engulfing him again with her mouth. Harry groaned out his appreciation and it didn't take long for him to spill over into her mouth. Ginny chalked it up to them not sleeping together for so long. There was no way he was that quick before they'd split. She felt she'd just have to train him all over again. As she thought of it, she swallowed his seed and smiled brightly to herself.

"Gin, that was-"

"Amazing. I know," she said cockily and got up to dress.

"Ugh. I wish we didn't have to go. It was nice to forget for a while what's happening outside these walls,"

"I know what you mean," Ginny said, jiggling into her leggings once more and pecking Harry on the lips. Harry put his own pants and t-shirt on before he remembered he had to send an owl.

"I need to know what my orders are. I'll be right back," he kissed her on the cheek and made his way through the house and up to the makeshift owlery on the roof where his stubborn owl, Augustus, preferred to hang out.

The night was muggy and warm, a sign there'd be rain soon.

Harry ducked under the small owl shack and scribbled out an order request.

"Gus, come," he held out his arm for the barn owl. It came, begrudgingly, as Harry had interrupted his sleep, and held out his leg for Harry to attach the letter. Gus flew away a moment later, leaving Harry alone on the roof. He turned back to go inside but a figure stood in his way.

"Ron?" Harry asked in disbelief.

The redhead looked incredibly exhausted. He had black circles under his eyes and his hair was moistened on the ends from what looked like sweat on his brow. He stood stark-still, his wand at his side.

"Where have you been, mate? I've been looking for you all day!"

"Not all day," Ron's despondent voice drawled out. "You were just sleeping with my sister for a fair part of it,"

Harry's head jerked back.

"How'd you—?"

"I know a lot of things, Harry," Ron's eerie tone set Harry's internal alarms blaring. He sounded off somehow. His usual easygoing tone was muted into something far less... Ron. It sounded almost as if he were Imperiused. But that wasn't possible, was it?

"Ron... let's get inside, yeah? It looks like rain out here," Harry tried to coax. He discreetly felt his back pocket where he often kept his wand but silently cursed to himself at its' absence. He would bet anything it must have fallen out on his bedroom floor earlier.

"Can't, sorry." Ron raised his own wand, pointing it right at Harry's chest. "I have loads left to do tonight, starting with-"

" _STUPEFY!_ " Ginny's voice called out and a jet of red flashed towards Ron's back, forcing him to crumple to the ground.

Harry let him fall and stared, shocked, at Ginny.

"You were gone too long for a letter," she explained and then looked down at her brother. "He's under an Imperius. He has to be. He didn't even sound like himself."

"You're probably right but... Merlin, it's _Ron._ Hexing him is just wrong," Harry leaned down to check that Ron didn't sustain any lasting injuries. "Someone must have gotten to him. He may even be the mole," Harry speculated. "But there's no way of knowing if he was the only one. We have to suspect someone else in the department was pulling the strings."

"We should get him out of here. But where?"

"A holding cell, maybe, but as I said, another Auror could be involved and simply free him..." Harry said. He thought long and hard. He needed somewhere to lock Ron up until they could figure out who was bewitching him.

"You know, Harry, Hagrid still has those large cages next to his hut for the more dangerous creatures he teaches about...?"

"Blimey... McGonagle isn't going to like this," Harry turned just as Gus was returning with a letter from Brunt. He scratched out a plea to the Headmistress and sent Gus off again before reading what his boss had to say:

' _Stay home. Do nothing._ '

"Why would he say that?" Ginny asked, reading over his shoulder.

"Simple. Either Brunt wasn't really the one who sent this reply or he must be a mole, too." Harry concluded.

"You think so just because he's telling you to stay here and Ron happened to try to attack you just now?"

"Brunt would never tell me to stay put somewhere under these circumstances. He knows I've already slept and am ready to be in the field. So either he's the mole, or someone else is well-versed in his hand and forged this. Either way, we need to get Ron locked up and get back to St. Mungo's pronto." Harry explained. Ginny nodded, agreeing with his logic.

A loud crack sounded to their left and Professor Minerva McGonagle stood in all her glory with swirling emerald robes. Her hair appeared grayer under her hat but her bun was tight as ever.

"Potter, Weasley, care to explain this letter?" she held up Harry's chicken-scratched parchment.

"Good evening Professor," Ginny strolled over to embrace the witch. McGonagle looked perplexed but her face softened as she hugged the woman back.

"Hello, dear,"

"I'm sorry to drag you away from the school so late, ma'am, but we need your help," Harry said.

"Anything I can do to help an Auror, of course," McGonagle said with a small pride to her tone.

Harry and Ginny launched into the whole story. They told her about Hermione being kicked off the DVF case and how it was responsible for the explosion at the Ministry and all the threats she'd been receiving. They let her know about both of Hermione's attacks. When Ron's role was explained, she looked just as confused but concurred with Harry's assessment that Brunt may be involved somehow.

"You know how Imperius works. Even being stunned wouldn't necessarily lift the victims' compulsion. He needs to be kept somewhere away from the Ministry for questioning," Harry implored her.

"Say no more, Potter, I'll have it taken care of," McGonagle said and grabbed hold of Ron's robes. "Please inform me of Miss Granger's condition as it progresses," she requested.

"Of course," Ginny assured.

"Oh, and Potter? If you look a little closer, I'm sure you'll find this DVF and all the attacks on Miss Granger are linked, somehow."

"You think so?"

"Well someone was still working on her case, were they not? Even after they tried to threaten her away. They probably just assumed she'd be the relentless person that she always has been and kept on it herself. I'd wager that's why she was attacked," McGonagle said sadly. "That poor girl,"

Harry exchanged a surprised look with Ginny and then schooled his face in a determined fashion.

"We have work to do," he said.

"I'll leave you to it," McGonagle said and popped away with Ron.

"Where do we even start?" Ginny asked.

"If McGonagle's right, as I suspect she is, we can do a lot of digging with the crates of case files I have downstairs," Harry said.

"What good will that do?"

"Firstly, it'll lead Brunt to believe I obeyed his order, giving us more time. But secondly, his file is down there as well as every employee that's worked at the Ministry for the last twenty years. If any of them worked for the DVF, we'll find discrepancies in their files." Harry said as he led her back inside and down the stairs.

"Like what?" Ginny asked.

"Look in their tax files, Gin," Harry smirked. "Taxes never lie,"


	39. Past Things

Draco peered around the corner of a brick building. It had taken him most of the day but he'd tracked down an old acquaintance of his mother's that lived under the radar. So deep, in fact, that Draco even finding him at all was a small miracle.

The man in question was a bit of an enigma. He was a member of the Goyle family but absolutely detested pureblood culture and everything it stood for. He was a distant cousin of Draco's old high school friend, Gregory, but the two couldn't be more different. In fact, the bloke didn't even go by his family name anymore, which made him extremely hard to track since he changed it so often.

Draco had been ready to give up on the man but he'd stopped the Leaky Cauldron for a drink and ended up spotting him right there in the middle of the bar drinking a pint with a pretty girl. Draco kept his distance, waiting for the couple to leave before following them to somewhere less populated and in the open, knowing the man wouldn't care to be confronted in front of people.

That's why he'd ended up in the quieter part of Diagon in the late evening. It was the part of the alley that was more run-down homes than shops and fancy apartments. It was closer to the Knockturn side of the neighborhood, which shouldn't surprise him considering who he was dealing with.

"Draco, you can come out now," the man said. Of course, he knew he had a tail. This guy didn't get to be so stealthy without having expert instincts. Draco walked slowly around the corner with his hands purposefully out of his pockets, as to not spook the man into thinking he'd reach for his wand.

"Been a long time, Gil," Draco commented, bowing his head in respect to the man and his blonde partner.

"It was purposeful, trust me," Gil replied.

"Who's your friend?"

"This is my wife, Cass."

"I'll assume that's a made-up name," Draco chuckled.

"Perhaps. One can't be too careful when dealing with a Malfoy," Gil smirked. The blonde woman, Cass, smiled gently at Draco and then turned to Gil.

"I'll go ahead," she said quietly and kissed her beau goodbye and turned to walk further into the dark of night.

"The elusive Gilbert Goyle has a wife? How shocking," Draco took a few paces closer until he was only a broom-length away. Gil tensed.

"I suppose it is,"

"Does she know?"

"She knows everything. It took me a long time before I could fully trust her but we trudged through."

"Still have the mark?" Draco asked curiously.

"Do you?" Gil lit up a cigarette and took a pull.

"No way to be rid of it, is there?"

"Sure there is," Gil blew smoke from both his mouth and nose. "Just gotta be willing to sacrifice for it."

"I'm not willing to do that,"

"Nor I. Not anymore, at least."

"Cass is a lucky woman."

"So is Hermione Granger," Gil said meaningfully, his eyes boring into Draco's.

"So you've heard?" Draco asked, already knowing the answer.

"The infamous Draco Malfoy falling for the muggle-born he bullied in school? Oh yes, I daresay everyone in every circle has heard that juicy tale," Gil leaned against the stoop of the home they were next to and sighed. "Are you insane?"

"Insane? I suppose some might say so but," Draco flipped up the collar on his peacoat as small drops began to fall from the sky. "I love her. And it's actually why I sought you out,"

"How'd you even find me?"

"I got lucky. I gave up but then there you were sitting in the Leaky. Not very stealthy of you," Draco joked.

"I can handle myself," Gil shrugged. "Now, about your bird?"

"Hermione was attacked last night and I was just informed she had a second attempt on her life this afternoon,"

"She was the one attacked at Malfoy Mansion? Pretty ballsy to harm what's yours in your own home," Gil blew out more smoke, looking pensieve.

"It's not my home anymore."

"Fuck what that Fawley bitch says she owns," Gil looked angry and said in a low voice, "what would your mum say about all this?"

"She's not here, is she?" Draco heard the change in Gil's tone. He'd always known the man harbored somewhat romantic feelings for his mother but being ten years her junior and her being married had always staved off anything serious between them. Gil locked eyes with him a beat too long and finally turned away.

"No, she isn't,"

"Why didn't you come to her funeral?"

"I was there. Just not seen," Gil revealed. "It's still not safe to be so out in the open. Being a defector follows you around, you know?"

"I doubt many would care anymore," Draco said.

"You're still the naïve boy, aren't you? How old are you now, twenty-five?"

"Twenty-eight. I'm not naïve but maybe you have a point. You were an Auror turned Death Eater turned double agent. No one ever knew where your loyalties really lied only that you were excellent at what they all needed you to do, which was deceiving and collecting secrets." Draco shrugged. "That's the skillset I need from you now,"

"How so?" Gil stomped his cigarette out on the ground and took out a notepad.

"The DVF. I need you to figure out anything and everything you can on the organization. I think they're responsible for Hermione's attack," Draco raked his hands through his hair, the moisture from the steady rainfall slicking it back against his head.

"DVF?" Gil looked surprised. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Draco looked at him suspiciously. "you recognize it?"

"What do the letters stand for?"

"Dragon Verified Facilities, I think is what the Auror's and Hermione believe,"

"Hmm," Gil looked down at the three letters he'd written for a few moments.

"Have you heard of this organization before?" Draco asked, unable to wait any longer while Gil looked on the edge of a breakthrough.

"It's a hunch but... was this an accredited facility?"

"They pretended to be, but no," Draco admitted. "It's actually a case Hermione was working on in her department at the Ministry. She'd found out the dragons that they were keeping were being mistreated and overused for supplies going to St. Mungo's. A bunch died,"

"And they attacked her for digging, right?" Gil pocketed the parchment and lit another cigarette.

"Not at first," Draco thought back to the weeks that had passed. "They set off a bomb in the Ministry to warn her away," Gil whistled low.

"Who's the CEO?"

"No one can figure anything out regarding employment. Charlie Weasley, who took over the case for Hermione, has been working on it under the radar for weeks with no luck, according to Potter."

"You're getting on with Potter, too? How absolutely fascinating," Gil scoffed. "I can't imagine what your father would do if he found out."

"Not that he ever will. That's the beauty of Azkaban, isn't it? No telly's or owls are there?"

"No. But you know as well as I do that there's always a way to buy information for men such as old Lucius," Gil said sourly. His dark brown hair fell in his face and he brushed it back before it could be singed by his lit cigarette. The now-steady rainfall kept it slicked back. Draco ignored his observation.

"Potter aside, whoever is running things in the DVF will be brought to justice,"

"And you're the one who'll do that, will you? I don't recall you being very compliant with the Dark Lord's wishes when he ordered you to kill Dumbledore. Why would you be so willing to do harm now?" Draco flexed his fist and glared at the man in front of him.

"I'm not _killing_ anyone, Gil. I just won't stand by and watch them torture the woman I love any longer! Are you going to help me or not?" Frustrated now, Draco wanted to hit something. Hard. He felt utterly helpless. Gil regarded him a quick moment before nodding.

"Sure, Draco. I'll do you this one favor. I think I may have a good lead but if I know you, you'll require physical evidence for your Auror friend. It may take a couple days,"

"That's fine," Draco said and turned away, walking back the way he came.

"Oh and Draco?"

Draco stopped but didn't look back.

"You'll owe me a favor, you know." Gil said quietly but loud enough Draco could still catch every word.

"I know," Draco said and kept walking. He glanced back briefly at the stoop they'd chatted next to as he came to the corner once more, but Gil was already gone.

Typical Gil.

Narcissa never told Draco the types of favors she'd exchanged with Gilbert Goyle. (Or Gil Ramsey, as he was referred to now.) And she never seemed troubled to comply when he'd ask her for anything so Draco didn't know what to expect from someone who traded in secrets and lies. But he couldn't think about that now. He had to get back to Hermione and fast, before anyone else attempted to kill her again.

...

"I haven't found anything," Ginny threw her arms up. Harry gave her a sympathetic grimace.

"I know it's a lot but we have to keep checking. Look for any large sums of money received or contributions to things like magical creature foundations or anything to do with DVF."

"I have, Harry," Ginny said. "all of these people are completely mundane."

"Employee files always seem that way but people often hide dirty deeds in plain sight disguised as something good, like philanthropy,"

"The only person who even flags as weird to me is Lavender, but the money that's been going in her account is totally explainable,"

"How so?" Harry asked, half-listening as he read through another file.

"It's restitution from the Ministry for her being bitten by an escaped werewolf fugitive," Ginny said. "Greyback, obviously."

"I didn't know she worked for the Ministry. What's a file on her doing here?" Harry asked, setting down what he was skimming to pay better attention as his curiosity peaked.

"It says here she was a Daily Prophet Correspondent for a time after the war. They allowed her to work from home while she adjusted to her... new lifestyle. But honestly, it probably wasn't as neat as all that. The Prophet probably didn't want a werewolf coming into work every day. Around the full moon, they're known to be moody and mercurial. But she was a war survivor so they probably felt pressured to employ her," Ginny explained.

"Ron never mentioned she was a correspondent," Harry said, confused.

"Maybe he didn't know?" Ginny shrugged.

"You'd think he'd know almost everything about her by now. They're practically engaged."

"Hardly. You've seen how he's been acting around Hermione lately. If Lav hasn't noticed by now, she's going to soon. Then again, it could've been the Imperius talking when he was getting riled about Hermione and Draco. But still, Lavender would know something was up with him. She'd have to, right?"

"Speaking of, I haven't even seen her since what? The night of the Ministry explosion?" Harry scratched his head, thinking back. "Where has she been?"

"Ron mentioned she was going through her wolf time which is why she wasn't at the ball last night,"

"I don't think that's accurate," Harry said confusedly. "The full moon isn't until next week, right?"

Ginny looked over at the astrological clock he kept on the wall. Auror's had to be informed of all the planetary cycles due to certain missions they went on. It was a vital ingredient in a lot of potion-making, as well. Most witches and wizards had one.

"How'd you remember?"

"It's almost time for the Auror trainees to test their polyjuice potions. It's one of an Auror's favorite times of year," Harry chuckled darkly.

"Of course you lot would get sick amusement out of potions going wrong," Ginny shook her head but she was grinning, too.

"That means Ron lied," Harry remarked a moment later.

"Or maybe Lavender did. Ron's not that bright and, as we discovered, dealing with being Imperiused."

"Do you think...? No... she wouldn't," Harry stood and grabbed Lavender's case file from Ginny and began scanning it.

"What, Harry?"

"Lavender began her time at the Prophet with an article about the abuse magical creatures who provide medical supplies receive and how inhumane it is to use breeders for such things," Harry said. "There's literally no mention of the DVF but... the coincidence is too great to be just that!"

"Sounds exactly like the case Hermione has against DVF," Ginny agreed. "You think they got to her, too?"

"Maybe but... that was the last article she did for the Prophet. Whatever they said to her either scared her too much to write anymore or..." Harry set down the case file and took off his glasses, running a hand through the stubble that was already forming even though he'd shaved before the ball the night before.

"Or?" Ginny urged him on, standing in front of him now with a worried v between her eyes.

"Or they converted her, somehow. This is about more than just magical creatures' rights, Ginny. It has to be."

"I've been thinking so, too, otherwise why would they go to such lengths to kill Hermione?"

"I don't know... it just doesn't make sense," Harry began pacing, barely avoiding knocking over boxes of files. "I think I need to question her but if Brunt has anything to do with this, he'll find out."

"How?" Ginny asked.

"Auror's have a tracking spell on them that can be detected by Brunt himself as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. The spell is deactivated when we go deep undercover, though, because it can sometimes set off magical wards."

"Like a built-in alarm to signal your adversaries. What a useless spell," Ginny scoffed.

"It's more a safety measure than anything," Harry explained. "It allows Brunt to know where we're at when an arrest happens or we need backup. But now, it's like a leash I can't shake," he added bitterly.

"How is it deactivated?" Ginny wondered.

"Protocol is it can only be undone by the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, but it can also be undone by a fellow Auror in times of danger."

"Well let's summon an Auror to deactivate it, then," Ginny demanded. "You have people you can call on, surely?"

"I don't want to put anyone else in a bad situation," Harry said, concerned.

"How would he suspect anything? He'd just think a senior Auror was calling on an underling to get an update. I'm sure Brunt suspects you'd be worried about Hermione's well-being by now,"

"I don't know..."

"I'll go fetch someone, then. McAdams, maybe?"

"No, Perkins," Harry said, giving in. "McAdams isn't that good at lying,"

"Damn, I was hoping you wouldn't suggest Perkins but... alright. I'll be back soon," Ginny said as she moved to leave. Harry grabbed her around the waist.

"Hey, before you go," he grabbed her hand and brought her into the circle of his arms and leaned down. Ginny felt his kiss all the way to her toes; spine-tingling, like a kiss should be. It ended too quickly, leaving them both a bit breathless. "be careful, please."

"I will," she promised and left the house to apparate back to St. Mungo's where Perkins was last seen.


	40. The Girl's Alright

Draco arrived at St. Mungo's well past visiting hours. He hoped he'd be let in to see Hermione but there were no guarantees. When Ruby called earlier and told him of the second attack, he'd felt guilty; guilty about leaving, guilty that it didn't seem like there was any sure way to stop what was happening... all he could do was wait on Gil and hope for vital intel.

In the waiting room, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood were sitting together, chatting quietly. They looked up at him as he walked through the swinging doors. Neville, with fatigue and Luna, with that ever-apparent curiosity.

"Hello, Draco," Luna's whimsical voice said kindly. Neville said nothing but offered Draco a curt nod.

"Erm... hi," he said uncomfortably. Out of all Hermione's friends, he hadn't had the best contact with them. He'd definitely made Neville's life miserable during their years at school and as for Luna, he'd only seen when he was working on Rolf's book, though they had a better repertoire. It left him feeling awkward.

"Who's on watch?" He asked, deciding talking about Hermione was probably the only way to work through the uncomfortable feeling.

"Bill is," Luna answered. "But we've been hanging out, too, just in case."

"Right," was all he said in response and then he was off in search of his girl. The receptionist had looked up at his passing but deemed him fit to go in, still harboring goodwill over him rescuing her from Ron Weasley's verbal assault, no doubt.

Draco reached the last room at the end of the hall and looked in the window before entering. It appeared Bill was reading something aloud to Hermione as she slept. His voice was muffled but he could make out what he was saying.

" _'His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend me so much as pride so often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favor, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has every right to be proud."_

" _That is very true," replied Elizabeth, "and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine,'"_

Draco smiled to himself, recognizing the passage from 'Pride & Prejudice,' and opened the door. Bill paused, a large, hard-covered book in his lap opened about a third of the way through.

"Ah, there you are," Bill sighed.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to return. How is she?" Draco asked as he walked over to her other side and felt her forehead.

"Stable. They don't know if the drugs that fake mediwitch gave her will have any lasting effects, though. Not until she wakes up," Bill put a placeholder in his page and closed the book. "But she seems to be a lot more stable now then she was after the surgery. They suspected that maybe that girl had given her multiple injections of something over time."

Draco grit his teeth. If he'd just been allowed to see her from the start after her surgery this may not have happened.

Bill looked over at Hermione sadly, probably thinking the same as Draco, and sighed again, looking back down at the book in his hands. Draco's thoughts gentled.

"Jane Austen?" He asked, smiling knowingly. Bill smiled, too.

"One of her favorites. I keep reading hoping she'll open her eyes and start arguing about how daft Mr. Darcy is," Bill chuckled.

"Mercurial men _do_ take a bit more time on the uptake than others when it comes to feelings, I suppose,"

Bill snorted, some internal thought making him laugh. But he kept it to himself as he stood, stretching, and handed the book to Draco over Hermione's sleeping form.

"Personally, I think you're the one she's been waiting on to wake up,"

"Things like that only happen in fairytales and romance novels, Weasley," Draco mentioned as Bill donned his jacket and headed through the open door. He turned and smirked, shrugging.

"Then it's a good thing you're a fiction editor, isn't it? Goodnight, Malfoy,"

Draco waved him out, trying not to derive any false hopes in what Bill had said.

Hermione would wake when she was ready. Whether or not he was there for it, no one could know. He hoped he would be. He couldn't imagine her looking around for him only to discover he wasn't there. Or worse, what if the injection made her forget him entirely?

No.

He couldn't think like. He'd be here. He was done letting her down. He hadn't been there for her to stop any of this. It was the least he could do to safeguard her and be at her side when those beautiful, milk chocolate eyes opened.

Draco took Bill's seat and opened the book back up. The tome in question was huge compared to his copy of 'Pride & Prejudice' as it seemed to be Austen's entire collection. He flipped to the marked page and began reading aloud, as Bill had, in case his theory was right, and she'd simply been waiting for Draco's arrival to wake.

...

Early morning light streamed through the small room. Draco had watched the sun rise from his chair where he sat reading to Hermione most of the night. He'd taken small breaks when Neville suggested he go get something to eat or when Luna wanted to take a turn reading, but he never ventured away for longer than fifteen minutes at a time. He dared not sleep, for fear of failure to protect her. She'd been through enough and he wouldn't be responsible for anything else happening to her.

He continued to read to her now, letting the morning rays illuminate the pages for him.

" _'While seeing this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of a doorbell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of it being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in the evening, and might now come to inquire particularly after her. But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she was better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began:_

 _'In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.'_ "

"Ardently..." a small, feminine sigh escaped through chapped lips. Draco was startled out of his reading, thinking he'd misheard. He leaned over and looked closely at the sleeping girl in front of him. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as nothing had happened. Ruby had removed the breathing device from her several hours earlier, declaring Hermione was breathing over the machine on her own.

Draco kept reading aloud for a while, hoping he hadn't been hearing things.

" _'You are mistaken, Mr. Dracy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.'_

 _She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued:_

 _'You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.'_

 _Again his astonishment was obvious, and he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on._

 _'From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others,were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.'_

 _'You have said quite enough, madame. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my-'_ "

" _'-_ best wishes for your health and happiness.'" Hermione finished.

Draco started, nearly dropping the book. He scrambled to right it and not lose his page as he leaned over once more to drink in Hermione's wakeful features. She was staring at him lovingly, like she'd been doing it her whole life; as if she'd simply woken from a restful night's sleep and not a coma for the past twenty-four hours.

"Oh my gods, _Hermione?_ " Draco tossed the book on the side table, not caring that his place was now lost, and grabbed her hand to kiss the top of it. Moisture burned and pricked his eyes and he laid his head down on top of her arm to hide his unavoidable swell of emotions. Her other hand started combing through his hair and he shuddered, his body wracked with silent sobs.

"Oh, Draco," she said quietly. "Shhh,"

The weight he'd felt since seeing her covered in blood in Potter's arms were lifted slightly, allowing him to finally breathe properly. He kissed her hand again and brought his eyes back to hers, where she was watching him with quiet understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said brokenly as his voice cracked from the strain of his crying. He fiercely wiped away the moisture, wanting to be strong for her.

"Why are you apologizing?" She asked, looking mystified.

"It's my fault you're here,"

"What happened?"

Draco regarded her a moment. She seemed like herself but there was a small hint of cluelessness to her features at him taking the blame.

"Your attack at the ball," Draco mentioned slowly. "do you remember it?"

"I was attacked?" Her brows furrowed as she looked down at herself for injuries. She inspected the pink lines on the body parts that were visible. They'd been fading since her surgery but would be visible a few days more, according to Ruby. "I don't remember an attack. I think I remember feeling sick, though. When I woke and heard your reading, that's why I thought we were here," she gestured to the hospital room. Draco shook his head slowly, fear creeping back into his stomach.

"Someone attacked you at the ball held in Malfoy Mansion. Don't you remember?"

"I remember going to the ball. I remember dancing with you and telling you I love you for the first time but..." Hermione's face scrunched up, like she was in pain, her hand flying to her head to run her fingers through her curls except...

Hermione stilled, the hand reaching up coming away with nothing. Her eyes grew to saucers and her mouth hung open in apparent surprise.

"M-my... my hair...?"

Draco ducked his head.

Hermione released his grip on her and ran both of her hands over her head, which was barely covered in enough choppy hair to hide her scalp.

"A mirror?" She asked softly, not looking at him. Draco hurriedly transfigured a lamp into a hand mirror and held it out for her.

Hermione's hands abandoned her hairline and escaped to her mouth, covering the horrified expression.

"Ruby says-"

"Who's Ruby?"

"Your Healer, Ruby Pinkerton," Draco elaborated. "she says they can grow it back with a potion once you're up to it."

Hermione barely nodded, looking at her reflection again and skimming a few fingers over the disappearing scars.

"I..." she paused, her eyes flitting between him and the mirror. "I'm not a vain girl, Draco. Not in the slightest. But this..." tears welled in her eyes but she dashed them away before they could fall.

"You don't have to be vain to care about your appearance, love. I get it. I grew up with a mother whose hair was her favorite, most pampered feature."

"This is barbaric!" Hermione sputtered suddenly. "Who would do this?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Draco shrugged one shoulder. "I have someone looking into it. I'm sure Potter is doing his due diligence, as well."

"He's not here?" She asked, her voice sounding small and child-like in her question; like she was disappointed.

"Not at the moment."

"Oh," she replied, looking away from him and the mirror. Draco knew he shouldn't be jealous of her wanting to see Potter and seeming dissatisfied with his company alone, but he honestly had never been above the emotion. And now that she was awake and seemingly alright, he didn't want to share her. He knew it was the right thing to do, though. She had family and friends in her life way before him who'd been waiting patiently to see her as well.

"The first chance I get, I'll send him an owl. As I said, he's working on figuring out what happened to you."

Hermione seemed to perk a little but still looked somewhat downtrodden.

"I'll go get a Mediwitch now that you're awake," he offered. She smiled, nodding, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Draco popped his head out of her room, determined not to leave her side, and got lucky enough to see someone passing by.

"Oi! Go get Pinkerton," The young man scurried off to get his superior just as Luna popped around the reception desk with Rolf at her side. They walked hand in hand down the hallway and stopped short.

"Did she wake?" Luna asked.

"See for yourself," Draco grinned, opening the door wider to let them in.

Hermione was staring out the window but looked over as her friends strolled in.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Rolf patted Hermione's covered foot. She cast him a warm smile but didn't say anything. Luna sat at the edge of her bed next to her waist.

" _Are_ you alright?"

Hermione thought on it but her shrug was minuscule.

"I don't think you are," Luna said sadly.

"I want to go home," Hermione's small voice piped up.

"Let's see if we can make that happen," Ruby's sunshining voice said as she entered the room. "Hello, Hermione. My name is Healer Pinkerton. But you can call me Ruby,"

"Hello," Hermione greeted.

"Could we have the room?" Ruby looked pointedly at the Scamander duo. They agreed and left to inform the others of Hermione's recovery. When the door latched shut, Ruby glanced back at Hermione with understanding in her eyes. "I know this may all be a bit confusng but we have to discuss what happened. I warn you, the details may be hard to hear,"

"Okay,"

"Okay," Ruby smiled as warmly as she could and took a breath before explaining. "A shearing charm was utilized as a weapon against you, Miss Granger. We took you into surgery but there was a lot of touch and go with your vitals. Your heart stopped once, due to all the strain, but was restarted quickly. The rest went smoothly. We were able to magically close all the lacerations and the pink marks as well as the soreness should be gone within days."

"You never told me her heart stopped!" Draco lashed out.

"I didn't want to worry anyone unnecessarily," Ruby looked apologetic.

"You should have told me-"

"Draco..." Hermione placed a hand in his where he stood by her side. He sat down next to her on the bed with quiet resolve.

"Sorry, love. Continue, please," he urged Ruby. Now it was his turn to appear apologetic, even though it infuriated him that she'd held back.

"I'll keep you apprised in the future," Ruby promised and went on: "Someone in the building, we don't know if she used to be employed here or not, has been administering an unknown drug into your system since you got out of surgery,"

"What?" Hermione looked back and forth between himself and Ruby. "How is that possible?"

"She was disguised as a Mediwitch," Draco rubbed her arm. "Ginny caught her, though. Hexed her to hell, too," he added smugly.

"We think she caused your coma," Ruby said and patted Hermione's hand as her expression tightened.

"Coma? How long have I been asleep?"

"Only about twenty-six hours."

"Oh, not so bad, then..." Hermione looked like she was trying to fit unmatched puzzle pieces together in her mind.

"Still, we need to know how much you may remember about your attack. And sometimes it takes a bit for someone with head trauma to remember."

"I don't remember anything," Hermione said.

"Didn't you say you thought you were sick or something?" Draco asked.

"I thought that's why we left the ball early," her brow furrowed again, trying to remember.

"No, love. We didn't leave the ball together. You were attacked _at_ the ball by someone there."

"It could be her brain trying to cope with the trauma," Ruby suggested. "We shouldn't push it, though. Sometimes people who experience trauma never remember,"

"Wait. Are you saying she could never regain her memories of who did this to her?" Draco asked point-blank. Hermione stared at Ruby as her face fell in sympathy.

"It's a very possible outcome, yes. But don't lose hope. The mind works in mysterious ways. Sometimes mundane things trigger memory. A smell or a certain image... try not to worry too much,"

"She was almost killed. Twice! Of course she's going to worry," Draco spat. Ruby took it without flinching.

"I want to go home," Hermione said, silencing Draco's tirade.

"If you do well the rest of the day, we can release you into someone's care tonight or tomorrow morning, at the earliest." Ruby said. "But you'll have to follow aftercare instructions to the letter. You still need to have healing potions administered every few hours. And I'll need the day to brew your hair growth potion,"

"I don't want it," Hermione said, her voice stronger than it had been since she woke. Draco whipped his head around and touched her cheek.

"What are you saying, love?"

"I mean... I'll take one dose, so I'm not completely bald. But I won't take any more than that. I want to look in the mirror and see what those monsters did to me. It'll fuel my resolve to catch them..."

"Them?" Draco asked. "You're talking as if there was more than one person who attacked you. Do you remember anything?"

Hermione looked confused.

"I didn't think about how I was saying it. It just slipped out but... I don't know,"

"Well it's a start," Ruby patted Hermione's hand and stood. "I'll get the single dose for you, then, and be back around lunch. In the meantime, rest and drink lots of water, Healer's orders," she smirked and opened the door.

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione agreed.

A flood of voices echoed through the hallway as Ruby opened the door wider.

"Sounds like your friends are here for you," she smiled.

"My family, you mean," Hermione corrected, sounding exactly like the swot Draco fell in love with. He grinned at her as Ruby acquiesced.

"Your family, yes. Only a few at a time, please,"

"See if you can stop us, Miss Ruby," George's voice filtered in from behind the Healer and she jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. She blushed crimson and bustled out of the room. George looked after her a moment before turning to inspect Hermione was truly awake. "You're alive!" he joked.

Hermione shook her head. "Are you seriously trying to court my Healer? I've been in here what, one day?"

"Have you seen her? She's gorgeous! That pink hair alone..."

"George," Hermione warned.

"I'm allowed a bit of fun. Merlin knows it was too stressful to worry about you dying and all,"

"I wasn't dying," she rolled her eyes and Draco could've kissed her. His Hermione was coming back slowly but surely.

"Says you. But have you looked at you? Yeesh!"

"George, enough," Draco chided upon Hermione's crestfallen expression. George bit back his retort and his smile softened.

"Seriously, Herms, I'm glad you're alright. Malfoy here was going out of his bloody mind,"

"Oh?"

"Fought ickle Ronniekins, he did," George chortled. Draco grimaced.

"Why?" Hermione asked, seeming quite curious.

"He accused Draco of being your attacker,"

Hermione snorted. "That's preposterous,"

"We know. He was just on a tear from worrying about you. I'm sure he's cooled off by now." George assured her and peaked around the corner. "Ah, there they are,"

Hermione tried to get a look around George to see who he was talking about.

Ginny came around the corner with Harry in tow.

"Thank Merlin you're awake," Harry said just as Ginny made an incoherent noise and bustled to Hermione's side to hug her fiercely.

"Gin... I'm sore all over," Hermione said and patted the girls back. Ginny pulled back a bit and smiled apologetically.

"I'm so glad you're okay,"

"We all are," Harry said as he leaned over and gave Hermione a peck on the cheek. "We've been pretty busy chasing down leads but haven't had much luck,"

"I don't want to hear," Hermione said firmly. "I just..." she looked back and forth between Draco, George, Harry, and Ginny a moment before saying, "I just want to go home."

"Ruby's working on it, love. She said maybe tonight-" Draco reminded but Hermione cut him off.

"Now. I don't feel safe here. I want to be in my own home with my wards where I'll know for a fact no one will let anything slip or make mistakes," she said firmly. Her determined expression was so familiar to him now; he could've cried at being able to see it again.

"I'll see if Mum can sweet talk the Healers into it," George waggled his brows. Molly was relentless for her children so it was pretty much a done deal. Hermione smiled appreciatively as George hopped to it.

Ginny tucked the blanket around Hermione as she slumped down a bit, still looking exhausted.

"Harry and I have been busy looking into things but I can take a break to go home with you," Ginny said.

"You two are chummy," Draco said suspiciously.

As he regarded them more closely, he could almost feel an undercurrent of something unsaid between the two. They were standing close together and kept shooting each other shy looks.

Ginny flushed and Harry could barely hold back a grin.

Hermione looked between the two, as well, like she was figuring out a puzzle.

"Looks as if we missed something," she said to Draco and squeezed the hand that was still in hers. He looked at her and she had a knowing smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny deflected.

"It's obvious you do. Fess up,"

"I don't think now's the time," Harry said, gesturing at Hermione. She pinned him with a very Hermione-like stare, her brows raised, as she waited for them to explain. "Ugh, fine!" Harry admitted. "We... slept together,"

"Well, it wasn't really _sleeping_ ," Ginny smirked over at the dark haired man. Harry flushed but didn't deny her words.

"Does Teddy know?" Hermione asked, looking pleased with the two.

"Um, it's not really the type of thing you discuss with a child, Granger," Draco joked.

"I know that! But that's not what I meant. They'd only do it if they were getting back together,"

"Not necessarily," Draco rolled his eyes. "Some people can seperate relationships and sex,"

"Not us," Ginny said as she took Harry's hand in her own. He lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

"We haven't gotten a chance to see Teddy yet. We don't really have the time," Ginny said.

"You're happy, though?" Hermione asked, grabbing Ginny's other hand. The ginger nodded, and Harry smiled his agreement and kissed her behind the ear. Hermione broke out into a large grin and shook her head.

"I can't believe it. But I'm inclined to say a great, big fat-"

"Don't say it,"

"-I told you so." Hermione finished.

"You never said we'd get back together!" Ginny withdrew her hand, laughing.

"Maybe not to your face. I've been saying it to Molly and the boys for years," Hermione shrugged a shoulder. "I think I lost the bet on the timeline, though," she added. Harry and Ginny exchanged a humored expression and they all started to laugh.

Draco smiled down at his sassy witch. He was so glad she was smiling and able to banter with her friends; that she seemed to be herself, despite the probable damage inflicted by the fake healer. She couldn't remember her attacker but he had hope that she would, and soon.

"Hey you lot," Ruby came back into the room holding a potion vial. She looked pleasantly surprised at all the smiling faces. "I'm told you want to leave earlier than my suggested timeframe?" she looked pointedly at Hermione, who nodded.

"I don't feel safe here. And I'd really like to be in my own bed if I'm expected to rest."

"Pushy little thing, isn't she?" Draco asked as he lovingly stroked the back of his hand down her cheek.

"Pushy as she may be, her leaving early requires her to be under constant supervision for the next couple of days," Ruby explained.

"We can handle that," he replied.

"Don't you have work? Wait... do I?" Hermione asked, looking embarrassed at not knowing.

"Kingsley doesn't have anything for you right now but even if he did, you're only job right now is to heal." Harry said.

"I can work from home easily enough," Draco said. He wasn't sure how many meetings he'd be allowed to miss but he was sure Astoria would make his excuses for him.

"So can I," Ginny offered.

"Doesn't your first week at the Prophet start tomorrow?" Draco asked. She looked perplexed at him knowing. "Everything in the publishing industry gets tossed around like idle gossip. I heard the job had been extended,"

"The Prophet?" Hermione asked. Ginny grinned, looking excited to spill the beans.

"I relinquished my spot on the Harpies. I got a job at the Prophet as a Quidditch Correspondent. I'll still be able to be immersed in something I love, but it'll give me more time to focus on my priorities," she looked over at Harry and he actually blushed. She winked at him and, despite being good friends with her and mild acquaintances with Potter, Draco rolled his eyes and looked away, unable to watch anyone flirt with Potter and vice versa. That was taking it a step too far.

"It'll be nice not being alone in the house all the time during the season," Hermione said a bit wistfully, leaving Draco feeling uneasy. How long had his witch been lonely in that house, waiting for Ginny to come home on weekends and holidays? He didn't want her to feel alone ever again.

"Don't flake on your new job, Gin," Draco said. "I can take care of her,"

Harry and Ginny exchanged looks with Hermione, who then looked at Draco with a soft smile.

"I think I like the idea of your sole purpose in life being to nurse me back to health," she said cheekily. He smirked and gave her a wink of his own.

"Nothing would please me more,"

"Then it's settled. Take this," Ruby handed her the vial. Hermione took it gently and tipped the clear contents of the hair growth potion into her mouth and made a sour face. Ruby chuckled. "Sorry about the flavor,"

"It's like drinking the way a farm smells," Hermione made a disgusted noise, her nose crinkled.

The others laughed together, making Hermione pout a bit.

"Here's the potion schedule for pain and organ rejuvenation," Ruby handed a small box and a sheet of parchment out to Draco. "There are some ingredients in the box for the potions but you'll have to brew them fresh at home. Can you handle that?"

"Absolutely," he promised, thanking Merlin he was so gifted at potion-making.

"Alright. Then you're free to go." She said to Hermione. "Take it easy for at least three days more before making any trips to the mailbox or through a floo. No apparating for a month."

"A month?"

"Apparating twists around our body mass in a way that would ruin a lot of the work the potions have already done. It'd be like tearing stitches," she explianed, knowing Hermione's muggle-born background. Hermione nodded, understanding, and made to swing her legs over the side of the bed.

"I think some privacy is in order to get her into clothing," Ruby said and began to shoo the men away.

"I'll help her," Ginny said, grabbing some clothing out of her bag that she'd brought for her friend. Hermione gave her an appreciative look.

"I'll be right out here when you're finished," Draco promised, catching Hermione's eye. She nodded, looking relieved somehow, and the door closed before either of them could look away from one another.

"I'm very serious, Mister Malfoy," Ruby said as he turned to face her and Potter. "you can't skip even one dose,"

"I won't,"

"If you do, her healing may not complete and one wrong move could cause her internal bleeding. You wouldn't know she was hurt until it's too late,"

"I said, I've got it." he snapped. Harry shot him an agitated look but he didn't care. If anyone was going to take the best care of her, it would be him. He understood the healer was trying stress the severity but he already knew how bad things could get for someone if they weren't properly tended to...

"You can always floo call if you have further questions," Ruby said casually, ignoring his snip, and walked away to go let the others know what was happening in the waiting room.

There was silence between the two men for a moment before Potter broke it.

"I can see your determined ferocity, Malfoy, but understand this," he said quietly and Draco locked eyes with the man. "you're not the only one who loves her. Nor are you necessarily the best person for this job, considering the people you associate with probably did this to her,"

Draco opened his mouth to argue but Potter held up a hand, cutting him off.

"Shut up, Malfoy, and listen. I'm not blind-I know you love her. I also know how badly you must be feeling about all that's happened to her. But your guilt won't excuse you from anything further happening to her under your care. I won't send you away when it so obviously makes her happy to have you by her side, but you can be torn out of there in an instant."

"Are you threatening me, Potter?" Draco sneered.

"No. I'm warning you. I hope for her sake that's all it ends up being. She's my best friend, Malfoy; my family. But her loyalty makes her blind sometimes, though. So if I have to intervene, I will." Potter said and before Draco could argue, the patient door opened revealing Hermione leaning heavily against Ginny, both were smiling.

"Ready to go?" Harry plastered his own smile on, like nothing had transpired between them.

Both girls nodded and the boys parted for them to start walking down the hall.

The silent truce between him and Potter had been slightly cracked, allowing in a little of his old feelings for the insufferable prat in front of him. He'd always been like this; used to getting his own way and having no real regard for the consequences. Draco tried to hold it in, though, remembering that he was Hermione's friend and that he was simply protecting her. Draco would do the same, in his shoes. But it still didn't make the other man any more likable or less smug.

"Ginny said she and Harry would help take me home and that they'd bring ice cream by later," Hermione said softly to him as he took her other elbow.

"That sounds nice," he said back a tad dispondently.

"Are you okay?" She asked, ever the observant slave to his emotions.

"Just ready for us to get home," he kissed her temple and she flashed him a shy smile.

"Hmm," she hummed.

"What?"

"I just like how you say things sometimes," she murmured. Ginny shot Draco a look over Hermione's head, smirking knowingly. He bit back a grin and looked back down at his feet.

When would he ever get used to this feeling? The feeling like she could decipher his every word before he even knew what he was saying?

And when would he finally stop feeling guilty about it?


	41. We're Bound Together

"I can do it myself,"

Hermione's stubbornness was rivaled only by Draco's and she was quite agitated.

"I know you can but I want to help," he said genuinely. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm simply walking to the loo,"

"I'll help you in,"

"Really, it's okay," she insisted, pressing a hand against his chest to stop him from getting up. He'd been a bit of a hoverer since bringing her home a few days back. She'd thought it endearing, at first, but now that she was feeling so much better, it was overkill.

Draco regarded her warily but acquiesced.

Hermione stood from the bed and gently stretched out her limbs before shuffling her way to the bathroom. Once in there, she did her business and when she was washing her hands, glanced at her reflection in the looking glass.

The single dose of hair growth potion had done wonders for her confidence. She'd have to get it styled, of course, but it now resembled a chic pixie cut she'd seen in a magazine while waiting in her mind healers waiting room one time. The length was just shy of her ears, making her look sort of like Peter Pan. The last time her hair had been this short was when she was a toddler, so it still shocked her a bit when she'd walk by a mirror.

The last of the suds washed away and she turned off the faucet and dried her hands. All the pink welts covering her body were practically nonexistent, sans the few covered by the new hair on her scalp. The edge of one poked out just behind her ear-a reminder of the horrors she'd endured since she couldn't remember what had happened.

Closing her eyes, she willed her brain to remember something; _anything_.

But the last thing she could even make out that night was kissing Draco in his old bedroom and telling him she'd meet him downstairs.

 _Knock knock._

"Draco, seriously," she blew out a gust of frustration and flung open the door. He was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I was just going to ask what you'd like for dinner," he said, sussing out her mood. Hermione glared at him.

"I know why you were hovering, Draco, no need to be dishonest,"

"I'm not," he put his hands up in a surrendering motion. "I just noticed the time and wondered what would sound good," he pulled takeout menus from his back jeans pocket. "I thought we could make it a date of sorts since you're practically shiny and new again," he smirked.

Hermione regarded him a beat before snatching the menus and looking them over.

"Thai or Chinese. I'll let you make the deciding vote,"

"I do love eggrolls," he said, catching her eye. It seemed like forever ago she'd fed him an eggroll after the auction at Malfoy Manor. And despite his obvious depression over the whole thing, that night had ended amazingly, with lots of kissing and cuddling. Hermione couldn't help but grin shyly in response to his reference and nodded.

"Chinese, then," she said and made her way back to his bed. They'd made camp in his room, not wanting her to have to hike up and down the stairs a bunch to eat or watch tv.

"You rest up a bit. I'll go make the call," he said and padded into the other room to use the phone.

...

Not too long later, after Hermione had dozed a small while, she came-to hearing the clattering of dishes. She peered through the bedroom door just as Draco walked past and out the back of the house carrying what looked like plates and cutlery. Curious, she rose once more from the comfy bed and followed him out through the sliding door.

The lights out back were all lit and the table had been set with all the dishes he'd carried out plus candles and glasses. He looked up as she approached.

"Ah, hello," his cheeks were alight from the glow of candles as he leaned over to adjust something.

"Hello," she greeted, taking it all in.

"I promise one day we'll actually leave this house for a date but until then," he gestured towards a seat and pulled it out for her. Hermione sat down, ducking her head at his show of affection. "I'll go get the food," he promised and scurried back in the house. She watched him go with something akin to humor bubbling up in her stomach. She didn't know if Draco had done much of this sort of thing in the past, but the fact that he'd made such an effort for her after she's been nothing but a pain to him the last few of days struck her as both hilarious and flattering.

"What's that look?" He asked as he carried some take-out boxes to the table and sat to dish them both up.

"I'm wondering how many times you've done this sort of thing for girls you've dated,"

"Never," he said.

"Never?"

"Nope."

"Not even for Astoria?" She asked, prodding for information. He quirked a singular brows up in amusement.

"Not even close," he said and set the empty containers on one of the unused chairs so they could dig in. Hermione looked down at the picture-perfect table.

"Thank you," she said before eating a big scoop of rice.

"You're welcome," he replied.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Draco picked up an eggroll, took an exaggerated bite and made a faux-euphoric face, his eyes rolling back. Hermione snorted, covering her mouth, and Draco grinned through chewing his food.

"There she is," he said softly after he'd swallowed.

"What?"

"You've been pretty frustrated at me. I get why but it still irked me that you were so mad. I made it my mission to break you out of it," he shrugged.

"If I'm mad, it's only because you've been treating me like an old woman," she argued.

"No, I've been treating you like the injured person you are, Hermione."

"I'm fine now, Draco, I'm not an invalid-"

"You almost _died_!" He roared, losing his cool and causing the gnomes running around in her garden to scurry under the fence into the next yard. Hermione's next bite had been hovering in front of her mouth but she lowered the utensil back down to her plate and folded her hands in her lap, feeling almost as if he were scolding her.

Draco set his own fork down, wiped his mouth on his napkin and stood.

"I'm not very hungry anymore," he murmured and marched back into the house.

Hermione sat there a few moments, pondering what to do.

Ron had always had a bad temper, but she knew how to coax him out of it and make good with him when they fought. Draco was another story, though, and she hadn't dated anyone in years; she felt completely out of practice on how to make things right. He could be so moody and mercurial. She could see he held a lot in; almost feel it like an undercurrent when he spoke with her about how she was doing or feeling. It was like his emotions constantly threatened to bubble up to the surface and he was doing everything in his power not to let them.

Hermione blew out the candles and abandoned the meal to look for him. Draco was leaned over her cauldron on the stove. Tinkering with the last batch of her potions, she guessed. When it looked like he was at a stopping point in ladeling the contents into a teacup, she embraced him from behind, circling her arms up to rest on his chest while she leaned her cheek against his back and inhaled his minty scent. He stilled, probably startled a bit, before relaxing and placing a hand over one of hers that lingered near his heart.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He turned slowly and grabbed her face with both his hands. His eyes were red but there was no moisture. There were dark circles under them, a sure sign of exhaustion. How long had he been like that, she wondered. It was difficult to tell these things under a small bedroom light and her sleeping on and off the last few days.

"I haven't... allowed myself... to feel the types of things I do about you... for anyone. Not Pansy or Astoria... no one," he began, looking pained. "To love is to be weak; that's how my family raised me. I've never been in love, Hermione. I didn't think it prudent, with my past and upbringing. It didn't seem like a good idea,"

Hermione leaned into his touch, her heart going out to him.

"But I love you. Most ardently, to take a leaf from Mr. Darcy," he chuckled weakly. "and when I saw you, torn up and bloody at that ball in Potter's arms... Merlin, Hermione, I felt..." he couldn't finish, his head ducking down and leaning against her chest.

Hermione's hands flew to cup the sides of his throat, her fingers digging into his hairline.

Without even knowing it or being very aware, she'd let Draco Malfoy become head over heels in love with her. She'd never felt this intensity or sincerity from Ron. It was completely overwhelming, like being dragged out to sea by a sneaker wave when you thought you were safe on the shore.

Her heart shattered completely when she felt moisture on her shirt and dragged his face up to hers, kissing him fiercely. He didn't fight it, merely sinking into it with everything he had. She pulled back a moment later, a ragged breath escaping her throat.

"I love you, too, Draco." She said, staring into those haunted gray eyes.

"I'm sorry if I was overbearing. I didn't know how else to apologize for letting you get hurt," he swiped moisture from his face. Hermione put a hand over his mouth to shush him.

"You didn't do this to me. Your guilt is misplaced,"

"No, it's not,"

"It is, Draco, it is," she pressed on. "You couldn't have known what would happen. I don't blame you."

"I blame myself," he choked out. She took a small step back and sighed.

"I don't know what to do about that," she said. "except tell you my truth. You need to forgive yourself, Draco, because there's no way I will ever think for a second that this happened because of you."

Draco leaned against the counter, looking defeated, and brushed against something that made a tinking sound. He looked over his shoulder and noticed the teacup. He picked it up and handed it to her.

"Your last dose," he said quietly. She took it and slammed it back.

"I'm officially healed," she tried to smile at him.

"Not entirely," he said cautiously. Hermione set the teacup on the counter and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his tall frame down for another kiss. He kissed her back for only a second before breaking them apart. "I should probably clean up," he muttered, still looking guilty.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed his hand and started pulling him back to the bedroom.

"Hermione-"

"Don't," she warned, casting a glare back at him. He relented, letting her drag him into the room and sit him on the edge of the bed. She closed the door, shuttered the curtains, then turned to face him fully, standing only a pace in front of him in the dim glow of the lamp next to the bed.

Grabbing his hand, she placed it behind her right ear, where the scar that likely wouldn't fade was. He looked away, pained. She took the same hand and had it brush against the little letters carved into her left forearm. He didn't look back up so she rested her own hand against his dark mark. He flinched.

"Our scars make us who we are, Draco," she whispered. "so I want you to see all of mine,"

It wasn't until her hands skimmed the bottom hem of her shirt that he looked back up.

"Stop," his eyebrows furrowed.

"No," she said quietly and pulled the shirt up over her head, leaving her in a small camisole.

"This right here is from a stunning spell in fifth year, when we held our own DADA classes with Harry," she pointed to a small, white, almost star-shape under her collar bone. "It was an accident, of course, seeing as how I'm not thrown off my guard so easily." she chuckled.

Next, she undid the tie on her sweatpants and let them skim down her legs in a small heap on the floor. Draco's eyes widened.

"This," she pointed at a crescent scar on her hip above her panties. "was from jumping off a small cliff into a river when I was fourteen,"

"What'd you do that for?"

"I had a crush on a neighborhood boy and he dared me to jump," she said sounding a little foolish. "It was a popular jumping point in the summer. I got snagged by a rock in the water."

Hermione gave him a pointed look, her nerves catching a little in her throat as she made to take off the camisole. Draco stilled her hands.

"You don't have to," he assured her. Hermione didn't hesitate any longer. The camisole was over her head in a heartbeat, leaving her torso bare. She allowed him to drink in her form for a moment, almost wanting to cover herself with her hands, but resisting and instead, turning so he could see her back. His intake of breath was confirmation enough that he could see what she scarcely allowed herself to look at. He startled her by running a few fingertips over the exposed, raised markings along her back.

"Cruciatus curse," she breathed out. His hand stilled and they were both quiet a moment. "That guilt you just felt... from not being able to do anything that day? It's the same as what happened at that ball, Draco," she turned to face him. "It wasn't your fault then, either."

He was shaking his head, guilt written so easily over every feature.

"I know you're scared to stay with me; something bad could happen again. And this time, I may not be so lucky to escape," she paused until he looked intensely up into her eyes. "It's a risk even going out the door, Draco. A risk to drive down a highway, fly in a plane or on a broom, to go shopping in a mall or even go to school. Life is risk. I'm not willing to hold back from you when, for the first time in my life, I feel something that I've never felt before. I won't let you be guilty or take the blame if it means for even a second you'd think about walking away from me; from us. Because that's what this feels like, Draco. You're one more events worth of blame away from leaving me behind. And I won't let that happen."

Draco barely let her finish her speech before he pulled her into his arms. He captured her lips, pouring out all the pent-up emotional trauma he'd been hiding away. She could feel the anxiety seep out of him as his body conformed to hers. His shoulders relaxed at her touch and he slumped forward to gain better access to the place between her neck and shoulder. She shuddered, hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

"I want you," she whispered out. His head lifted back up so he could search her eyes. When he found nothing but even assurance, he swept his own shirt over his head and discarded it haphazardly before pulling her flush against his naked chest.

His skin was almost hot where her own touched and she found herself unable to hold back as she skimmed her hands down his pecs to the abs and small smattering of hair that traveled down to a place that had always been a mystery to her. She grazed the hem of his jeans before popping the button and unzipping his fly. Draco lifted his hips so she could pull his pants down to the floor. Her hands traveled up to rest on his strong thighs near his briefs as he kissed her deeply again.

"Hermione," he whispered between kisses. "I don't deserve you," She stopped him and he looked almost as if he expected it.

"I think, after everything we've both been through, we deserve this. I deserve to be loved by you, Draco. And you certainly deserve everything I have to give you in return," she said and started rubbing a hand over his ever-growing bulge. Draco hissed, leaning back on his arms to watch her. She moved aside the small opening and his cock sprung forward, ready and willing.

Hermione let her finger drift down to the head, skimming slowly down his shaft into the curls at the base. She didn't linger, though, instead gripping the entire thing and pumping up and down a few times, marveling at how velvety-smooth it was. Draco let out a breath and closed his eyes, head falling back. Hermione took the opportunity to surprise him. She leaned over and popped the head into her mouth, remembering from one of her many books how they'd instructed. It was a little salty but mainly just tasted of Draco, however that made sense. Draco's breath caught and his head lifted back up to see what she was doing. As she began to slowly pump him, she flicked her tongue over the head of his shaft, humming with appreciation at how well he was made. Draco tried not to lift his hips up, but she could tell he wanted to by how he tensed. Probably to make her take him deeper. So she took him on her own, her mouth sliding down and letting the head almost touch the back of her throat.

"Merlin, Hermione!" Draco cried out and pulled her back up to gently deposit her on the bed.

"Did I hurt you?" She asked, confused.

"Definitely not," he smirked and kissed his way across her chest before taking one of her rosy buds into his mouth. Hermione couldn't stop herself from the small moan that escaped, the sensation jolting everything alive in her body. When he switched and began lapping at the other one, he started to twist and tweak the first gently between two fingers. Hermione held his head against her chest, making all manner of pleased noises. When his cock grazed at her core over her panties, her head shot back, intaking a harsh breath.

Draco smirked again and the kisses began traveling down her body. He kissed her ribs then made his way to her hips, where he nipped at the bone then gave a special, lingering kiss to the scar there. He hesitated at the apex of her thighs.

"I want to taste you, too," he said quietly then stood up. He was at the end of the bed and pulled her thighs until she was placed at the edge. He slipped her panties down and threw them over his shoulder. She rose onto her elbows to see what was happening just as he lifted her thighs over each shoulder then plunged his tongue into her core.

"Oh, Draco..." she barely got out as he began his ministrations. He dipped in and out of her for a minute or so before replacing his tongue with a finger. It felt strange, almost tight, but after he'd gone in and out several times, it began to feel good. When her sighs picked up again, he put his mouth over her and began to flick his tongue at her most sensitive area, making her legs involuntarily start to shake. "Oh!" she gasped out, not in control. Draco made an almost chuckling noise as he carried on making her shudder. When she felt like she could barely take any more, a large swell crested over her body, making her gasp deep and moan out in ecstasy. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her eyes were slammed shut and her hands curled into the sheets, unable to do much else as the small waves crashed over her again and again.

Draco lapped at her a few more times, helping her ride out the orgasm, then kissed her inner thigh and climbed over to lay down next to her for a moment while she caught her breath.

"I don't know about you, but that was way better than Chinese food," he said, humor coloring his voice. Hermione's eyes snapped open and she laughed, turning over to face him.

"I know something that'll be better," she teased, her hand roaming over his groin again. He ginned hard and nodded.

"You're probably right," he admitted.

"I always am," she said matter-of-factly. He smacked a hand lightly over her ass and she giggled.

"Of course you are, you little swot," he laughed, too and pressed her back against the mattress. He had his briefs off in one second and crawled over to her. She lifted her hands to touch and feel him everywhere, even his own scars that were far more vast and complicated than she'd thought, marring his body in all manner of complicated patterns similar to the ones on her back. She made a mental note to ask him about them later.

As he lifted her legs to position himself at her entrance, she made him pause.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?" He stilled, allowing her to change her mind. Losing one's virginity was a huge deal, after all, and he was nothing if not continually conscious of her feelings.

"This binds us together forever. You know that right?" she asked in a small voice. He nodded, emotion swelling in his eyes.

"Of course it does, Hermione," he said, his voice thick. "But we're already bonded together forever, didn't you know?" She beamed up at him with a megawatt smile and he returned it tenfold. He looked like he was about to go for it but she stopped him once more.

"Um, Draco?"

"Yeah, love?"

"Here," she reached over to the nightstand and grabbed up his wand, handing it to him. "Contraception?" Draco grabbed it, looking relieved.

"Oh shit, I'm glad you remembered. I was getting swept away," he chuckled.

"As it should be but... you know," she laughed nervously with him as he performed the charm, a small wave of warmth settling over her abdomen, before handing the wand back so she could set it aside.

Draco leaned over and began kissing her again, his tongue making languid work of it and allowing her to relax. She'd been pretty nervous up until this point but now all she felt was a sense of rightness and bliss. He leaned back up and grasped himself in one hand, the other resting on her thigh. He lined them up and then looked at her through his lashes.

"Ready?"

"More than," she promised, smiling up at him.

He pushed his hips forward, little by little, stretching her more than she thought possible. Draco's erection was impressive so she'd been a bit skeptical as to whether he'd fit. When he was about halfway in, he muttered, "You okay?" concern for her his main priority. She nodded and he continued. There was a bit of resistence towards the end. He looked at her almost apologetically and in a quick, single motion, thrust the rest of the way into her, making her cry out.

The pain was intense... for a moment. But then it simply felt alien, like something that didn't belong. He held her steadfast for a few moments, allowing her to acclimate. When her breathing became even and the pain and weirdness ebbed away, she looked up at him and nodded. He squeezed both of her thighs as he began to pump in and out of her slowly. It felt foreign and sore but after he'd been at it a minute or so, it began to feel good. Really good. She found herself pushing her hips up to match him and he smiled down at her, eyes shining.

"I love you," he said softly. She smiled back up at him, breath catching as she tried to make him go faster.

"You better,"

He smirked, beginning a slightly picked up rhythm, but still holding back.

"I want to obey your signals but you're still-"

"I know. Just make love to me," she insisted. He lowered himself back down and their bodies were flush together as he ground into her. Their mouths found one another and they rocked gently for a while before that blessed friction between her legs began to build again.

"Draco... I'm going to-" he swallowed the rest of her words with another kiss and she shattered around him, her insides quivering as hard as her legs were. A few pumps later, his hips grinding into hers stilled, then he shuddered his release with her name coming out in a moan on his lips.

They held one other for a few long moments. Her arms were wrapped around his back and his were holding himself up slightly so he wouldn't crush her. She kissed his shoulder, his neck, his ears, his face, until finally meeting his lips again. When she pulled back, he carefully untangled them and let himself fall in a huff onto his back next to her, breathing rapidly. He looked over and held out an arm to her. She crawled over and nestled into the crook of his arm and draped whatever limbs she could over him.

"Say it again," he asked. Hermione speculated leaving him hanging a moment but decided to put him out of his misery.

"I love you."

"Not that," he chuckled. "but I love hearing you say that, too,"

"Then what?" She asked, craning her neck to make eye contact.

"The binding thing," he said seriously.

Hermione lifted herself up on an elbow to look him right in the eyes.

"We're bound together forever now, Draco Malfoy. No more thoughts on leaving because it would be better or whatever because that's simply not true. I love you. And you're mine now," she smirked, taking it a step further, needing him to know how serious she was.

Even though there was no sound explanation for how they fit so well together, the love they shared gave Hermione a deep sense of calm and belonging.

They were each other's now, no matter what happened.

Draco let out a contented sigh and they both snuggled into one another, allowing themselves, for the first time, to be completely at ease and open with how they each felt.

 ** **It's been a hot minute since my last update, whoops! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I've never really written anything in the smut genre before this story so I hope it didn't sound too cliche or unbelievable. As always, thank you all for the reviews and follows! I really enjoy hearing your feedback.****


	42. Ron Returned

****Hello again, fantastic readers! I hope you've been loving the story thus far. We're getting closer to the end! I'm not a hundred percent certain how many chapters are left. I'm trying to make it as natural as possible, though, so bear with me! Xoxo-TheMissMegan****

 _Bzzzzzz._

"Draco, the door,"

"Mmmm," he moaned.

"Please," she begged.

"It's your house," he scoffed.

"It's your house, too!"

When Draco made no leeway in getting up, Hermione sighed in frustration and quickly jumped out of bed, throwing on the first scraps of clothing she could find.

 _Bzzzzzz._

"Coming, coming," she called from the hallway. The floors were freezing under her bare feet so she shoved them into the nearest pair of slippers by the door, not having a mind to tell if they were hers or Ginny's.

With one peek through the peephole, she could see Harry and George waiting on her doorstep. She flung the door open and squinted into the early morning sun.

"Morning," she greeted, holding the door open for them to shuffle inside.

"Uh, morning, 'Mione," Harry took in her sleep-deprived face and a worried frown turned down the sides of his mouth. "you alright?"

"Mhmm I was just sleeping," she waved him off as she headed into the kitchen to start some coffee.

"I've got an interesting question for ya: are you wearing Draco's clothes?" George asked coyly.

Hermione hesitated opening the coffee cannister and looked down at herself. Sure enough, she had on his sweatpants and an old, gray shirt that had the Slytherin insignia on it.

"Oh Herms," George raised a brow. "you certainly can't talk about your sex life at Sunday dinners now," he elbowed her and hopped up onto the small kitchen island.

Hermione didn't have it in her to banter yet, not without a heavy dose of caffeine, so she merely shrugged.

"Ooo, intrigue! Not denying it?"

"Weasley get your arse off of where we eat," Draco's grumpy voice filtered into the main room as he shuffled over to where Hermione was spooning coffee grounds into the maker. "Good morning, love," he pecked her on the cheek and proceeded to fetch things out of the fridge to go with the coffee.

George slid off the countertop and leaned over it instead, his head cocked to one side.

"This feels rather domestic," he said without a hint of teasing.

"It's weird, is what it is," Harry muttered. "you feeling alright, Hermione? You took all your doses and everything?"

"Yeah, Harry, I'm great," she smiled over her shoulder. "do you guys want breakfast?"

"No thanks, we already ate. It's almost eleven, after all,"

"Really?" She blanched, looking over at the grandfather clock near the fireplace. "Goodness, we slept late," she said to Draco with a shy smile as he started handing her eggs and things from the fridge.

"So we did," he smirked down at her and Hermione felt her heart stutter in her chest at how they shared such a blissful secret between them. She ducked her head down, fetching a pan from a cupboard to hide her flush, and set to work making breakfast.

"What brings the pair of you here at such an early hour?" Draco asked and George snorted.

"We wanted to see how Hermione was doing, first of all," Harry began. "and secondly, we have some information regarding the attack, if she feels up to hearing it,"

"Absolutely," Hermione said firmly. "I'm all healed up and ready to do what I can to catch whoever did this,"

"Easy love," Draco placed a hand on her shoulder. "take it a step at a time,"

"I am," she said. "just ready, is all," she beamed up at him and he kissed her on the forehead.

"Okay seriously, what's with this atmosphere? It's way too lovey-dovey for me," George went back to his teasing but Hermione could see how happy he was for them.

"Take your complaints elsewhere, Weasley,"

"But then how could you hear them?"

"I have a migraine," Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat at the dining room table.

"Here," Hermione poured a cup of coffee and walked it over to him. Draco took over cooking breakfast.

"Oh, I could've gotten that, 'Mione," he said. "I know you're probably still sore. You shouldn't over-exert yourself,"

Draco snorted from where he was dishing up eggs onto plates but covered it with a cough. Hermione cleared her own throat and flitted over to where Draco had set out fixings.

"Cream or sugar?" She offered to Harry and set down the containers in front of him.

"Thanks...?" Harry said unevenly, not understanding the tension in the room.

"Well this trip is already a success in my book," George joined Harry at the table and put his feet up in another chair.

Draco set down plates of scrambled eggs and bacon for both her and himself, then brought over a plate stacked with a few extra pieces of toast, in case the others wanted a nibble. The fact that he had thought to do that made her smile.

"You're very considerate," she murmured to him and gave him a small peck. He wrapped his arms around her as she poured them each a cup of coffee.

"Don't get used to it," he chuckled and kissed the side of her neck and picked up his own mug to take to the table.

"Coffee, George?"

"No thanks," he said.

"Ah I forgot, you hate coffee. Do you want some tea, then?"

"Don't trouble yourself, I'm alright," he flashed her a smile as he began loading a piece of toast with jam.

Hermione sat down with the men and began to dig in. A few bites later, Draco was nonchalantly adding peppermint creamer to her coffee for her.

She looked up and caught his sparkling expression at the memory of his first morning in her home-how he'd drank all her coffee and taken her toast before popping away to go to work. She raised the cup to her lips and inhaled the minty notes before sipping the liquid, letting it warm her from the inside out.

"Toast?" Draco held out a piece of bread to her that had already been buttered.

"I'm fine, thanks," she said coyly and felt a smile tug at her lips. His lips quirked but he simply began eating the offering on his own.

"So you feel better, then? Because what I have to say... it's a little fucked up," Harry said, interrupting her silent tug of war with Draco. She looked up from her mug and nodded.

"I'm perfectly fine, go ahead," she assured him again and he paused a beat before pulling a folder out of his satchel on the floor.

"Despite Ginny starting her new job at the Ministry, we've been busy covering a lot of ground with the information we've gathered," he began. "when she stayed at my house the other day, we sifted through quite a bit of the employee files to see if we could suss out any irregularities, and what we came across was a bit of a surprise,"

"Was it really, though?" George asked, seeming to be already in the loop.

"Well, her character has always been a bit... off," Harry shrugged.

"What's this about?" Draco cut them off.

"Lavender," Harry said, giving Hermione a wary expression. "it seems she's gotten in a bit over her head,"

"Is she alright?" Hermione asked, setting her cup down.

"Not particularly," Harry grimaced. "it seems she uncovered DVF's agenda several years before you did,"

At mention of the case, she sat up a little straighter.

"Oh?"

"We're not sure yet, because she won't tell us one way or another, but we think she was either threatened into working for them or she was somehow turned to their side of things. Regardless, she's been taken into custody for using an Unforgivable curse on Ron,"

Hermione stood up quickly, her chair threatening to rock backward entirely.

"Is he alright? Which curse?" She felt a small rise of panic in her chest. Sure, Ron had been nothing but a pain in the neck recently with how he'd been acting around her, but he was still someone she cared deeply about.

"Imperius," Harry said flatly. "he tried to attack me the other night and I realized pretty quickly he wasn't himself. McGonagle has been keeping him at Hogwarts for us until we can get it all sorted."

"Why Hogwarts? That seems a little far away to be of any use if you needed to question him," Draco observed.

"That's the other problem: we think there's a mole in the Auror Department. In fact, we think it could be Brunt, himself," Harry said the last part with a downtrodden expression. He and Brunt had always got on since he was appointed head of the department. You could almost say they were friends. Even thinking his boss could be a mole for these DVF people made Hermione's skin crawl.

Harry relayed his theories on why he suspected Brunt and how he was sure the DVF case was somehow linked to the attack on her.

"I think so, too," Draco revealed. "I've asked an... acquaintance... of mine to look into things,"

"What acquaintance?" Hermione asked but he waved a hand weakly in her direction.

"Doesn't matter. He hasn't gotten back in contact yet,"

"But you have Lavender in custody?" Hermione turned her attention to Harry once more and he nodded.

"We picked her up at her mothers' house in Ireland. It seems she'd only been there a couple of days,"

"What was she doing there?"

"Trying to skip town, I expect," George shrugged. "the flighty thing didn't realize mummy's house was still within Ministry jurisdiction,"

"Or maybe it was a stepping stone for her to get elsewhere. There are a few International appration points on the west coast of Ireland. I'm not sure if they're still operational, though." Hermione pondered aloud, the wheels turning in her mind.

"You think she was headed to another continent?"

"If you say she Imperiused Ron and had a connection to the DVF? Sure. Especially after they bombed the Ministry just for Charlie and I digging and running them through the wringer in court. It seems they'll do just about anything to keep their operation afloat and private."

"Even if it means attacking you," Draco said, covering her hand in his.

"You guys really think the DVF and the attack on me at the ball are linked?"

"It sure seems that way." Harry sighed. "A lot of the people in the Wizengamot the day of the DVF trial were at the ball,"

"You're kidding," Hermione was surprised.

"The ball had many prominent members of society, including legal representatives," Draco said. "If Brunt is in their pocket, I can only imagine how easy it'd be to have a few members of the Wizen on the payroll, as well,"

"That could be how they were able to keep themselves in business!" Hermione realized. "Charlie said the case was practically a slam dunk but that they somehow scraped by to keep their funding and facilities, wherever they may be now,"

"As much as it makes sense, it also calls into question how large and powerful this organization really is," Harry ran a hand through his hair. "They have law enforcement and government officials on their side. Not to mention they're somehow able to get to you at a public ball and your hospital room," he looked right at Hermione now, worry lines etched in his forehead. "It makes you wonder what we've stumbled into exactly,"

"It feels big but what if we're overthinking it, Harry?" Hermione asked. "We need more facts and evidence."

"Lavender is in custody. She'll be charged soon and sent to Azkaban. Hopefully, we'll be able to frighten her a bit into telling us the truth in exchange for less time on her sentence."

"Does Ron know?" Hermione's heart went out to him. How long had he been under the Imperius curse? He'd most likely be devastated once he found out what Lavender had been up to.

"Not yet," Harry looked uncomfortable. "I was hoping you'd be with me when I talk to him,"

Hermione didn't even pause to deliberate. She would always be there for him and Ron, no matter what. That's what family was for.

"Of course,"

"I would like to go, as well," Draco chimed in.

"You might agitate things, Malfoy," Harry shot him an annoyed look.

"True. But I promised Hermione I wouldn't leave her side,"

"When was that promise made?" She asked, flabbergasted.

"When you were asleep at the hospital,"

"So it's more of a personal goal, then?" She challenged him.

"Perhaps,"

"You can come if you promise not to goad Ron," Harry offered.

"I can't make any such promise not to. But," he swallowed the remainder of his coffee. "I will promise to try,"

"Good enough."

"When should we go?" Hermione felt anxious to leave the house for the first time in almost four days.

"Soonish. You have time to shower and get ready," Harry said.

"How impertinent to think she'd need to shower. She looks lovely as-is," Draco snaked his arms around her middle as she made to clear her dishes.

"The offensive Slytherin shirt aside, she smells too much like you,"

"You go around sniffing everyone, Potter? Pray tell, what do I smell like that offends you so?"

"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry rolled his eyes and went for another cup of coffee.

"I think you smell nice," Hermione beamed up at him.

"Thanks love. But you can really shower if you want. I won't be offended, you have my word,"

"Why would you be offended?" George asked with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"No particular reason," Draco replied.

"I'll finish the dishes, 'Mione," Harry offered when she made to open the dishwasher. "George can help. Looks like you guys had a good time last night," he gestured to the patio table laden with dishes and food from last night.

"Whoops," Draco couldn't hold back his shit-eating grin. Hermione's thoughts lingered not far from where it looked like his had been and she turned to the others.

"Thanks," she smiled, embarrassed, and began climbing the stairs.

"Oi, wait for me!" Draco called and she laughed, hitting the second-floor landing.

"Think you'll get a free show?"

Draco followed her into the small bathroom connected to her bedroom and joined in her laughter.

"I don't think, I _know_ ,"

"Hmm, I see," she said coyly and began to undress after shutting the door.

The sweatpants slid down first, revealing her nakedness underneath.

"Wait," Draco paused her movement to remove the shirt and drank her in. "damn that's a good look on you,"

Hermione snuck a peek down and shook her head at the snarling snake printed on the shirt.

"Green isn't really my color," she teased.

"Like hell, it isn't," he growled and pulled her flush against him.

Hermione could feel his arousal growing against her hip.

"And you called me insatiable last night," she pretended to scoff.

"You don't know the half of it," he whispered against her lips as he kissed her silly. "the things I want to do to you..." he trailed off.

"Well, for now, you'll just have to watch," she pulled back. "I don't feel comfortable having our... sexcapades... while Harry and George are here,"

"They won't hear us,"

"But still," she said, turning the water on in the shower and checking the temp; she got in a foot at a time, being mindful of the ledge.

"Then watch I shall," he shrugged and leaned up against the counter to watch her through the foggy glass door of the shower. After a few moments of her washing her hair and putting conditioner in, she looked over to see Draco stroking himself through his gym shorts.

"You make that look good," she said softly, linking eyes with him through the glass. At least, as much as she could see him.

"You should try it sometime," he pandered and stopped his flexing to slide his hand _i_ _nto_ his pants instead.

"Maybe next time I will," she teased and began lathering her body-making sure to pay special attention to her chest and between her legs.

"You're killing me, Granger,"

"Hmm," she hummed happily to herself.

They stood in silence a few moments; Hermione washing and Draco sliding his hand up and down his cock slowly as he regarded her with open lust. He never picked up the pace, though, opting for the slow burn. Hermione thought it was sexy as hell and barely managed not to hop out of the shower and into his arms right then and there.

"Are you close?" She asked softly, still feeling a bit shy at being so intimate with him.

"I am but I think I'll steel myself for now," his voice was husky.

"Oh?"

"As good as you look, and you _do_ look delectable right now, I'd rather wait for the real thing later,"

Hermione felt herself blush, even though she was already practically combusting under the hot water, and giggled quietly.

"Merlin I love that sound," he said and tucked himself away.

They behaved themselves while getting dressed together. Each of them slowly flitting around one another, collecting garments to wear and giving the other subtle touches as they passed by. It amazed Hermione just how quickly Draco Malfoy had taken over her life. Even her room was littered with articles of his; clothing and different items such as books and manuscripts for work, which he'd been reading through while she slept, were everywhere as if it were his space, too. There was an odd sort of comfort that he'd already been integrated into her life so seamlessly as if her anxiety hadn't caught on that he was trying to become a permanent fixture in her life yet. And since the moment he'd made his feelings for her so transparent, she hadn't had one anxiety attack. Realizing that was like a balm to her soul. As she finished dressing and slipped on a pair of flats, she found herself thinking that maybe there was such a thing as fate, after all; that maybe-just maybe-she'd finally found her perfect match.

"Ready, love?" He held out his hand.

"Yes," she replied.

They rejoined the others downstairs and bid George farewell as he headed to work.

Then she, Draco and Harry were off, apparating in front of the Hogwarts gates to meet with McGonagle.

...

"I don't think this works,"

"What do you mean?"

"It just doesn't have that certain... rightness... to how a game truly feels,"

The wizard whom Ginny had been conversing with rolled his eyes.

"I'm not trying to belittle the work," she felt vexed at how this man had to be coddled. "it just needs some adjustments to the verbiage. Quidditch is far more exciting than you depicted it. The wording in your article makes it feel-"

"Droll?" He glared.

"-like an instruction manual," she said at the same time. His ears pinked and he snatched the article back.

"I'll try again," he fumed.

"That's the spirit, Chuck!"

"For the last time, it's Charles!"

"Sorry, no-can-do. One of my older brothers has the same name and it'll be too confusing,"

"So I'm to suffer from your parents' taste in names?" He asked and she made an impatient gesture with her hand.

"Nicknames are terms of endearment, Chuck, don't get so floppity about it," she smirked.

" _Floppity_? And you criticize _my_ wording?"

She wasn't able to retort because he was already marching away from her desk. When he was out of earshot, a snicker caught her attention behind her.

"Really, Weasley, did you have to goad him?"

Ginny turned from where she'd been leaning at the edge of her desk.

"Theo?"

"If you're going to begin your job here by alienating the staff, maybe you should just wear a badge so everyone knows to avoid you,"

Ginny bit out a laugh but covered her mouth before it could grow.

"Seriously, though, were you planning on letting me know you were gunning for a job here?"

 _Crap._

It'd been only a few days since she began her job as Quidditch Correspondent for the Prophet and she felt like she was settling in nicely... except for the fact that she hadn't run into Theo yet to let him know. She'd tried to make it her mission to tell him about the job offer before her first day but she'd never found the opportunity. Between everything going on with Hermione and her evenings wrapped up in Harry, it'd slipped her mind entirely.

"I wanted to tell you but-"

"You've been busy, I get it,"

"Really, Theo, it wasn't like it was some big secret," she shrugged.

"I get that. What I don't get is why you work here at all," he stepped around her desk to speak with her face to face. "Why aren't you training up for the season?"

Ginny's face fell, the passive smile turning into something more similar to indifference.

"I don't play for the Harpies anymore,"

"What?"

Ginny and Theo had always known each other from school, but they'd really met officially when he'd interviewed her for the Prophet almost eighteen months ago. He'd been given the assignment to do a profile on her and they'd met for coffee at the place she and Hermione liked down the way from their house.

To say that the spark was instant was an understatement.

Sure, he'd asked all the required questions and taken studious notes in the interview but eventually, it had turned into something different altogether. What was supposed to take an hour lasted almost three. By the end of their meeting, Ginny's face hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

It was the first time she'd allowed herself not to dwell on what Harry might think of her while flirting with someone else.

Theo had contacted her under the guise of having some follow-up questions the next day. Really, it had been an excuse to go on a date but neither of them admitted it as such. A small amount of conversation later and the attraction became too much; they'd gone back to her place and screwed each other silly for the next three days while Hermione had been at a conference in Belgium.

Theo working where she'd been offered a job had been a bit of an oversight, on her part. Really, she'd already made up her mind about the entire Quidditch situation and how it pertained to her potential relationship with Harry and the choice hadn't seemed so hard at all. But because of all those details crowding her mind, she'd practically forgotten that Theo still worked there and that she'd have to see him almost every day. Guilt had formed a little ball in her belly and she found herself apologizing to Theo.

"I'm so sorry, I should have made the effort to tell you I got a job here," she said sincerely. Theo's face hardened.

"That still doesn't explain about the Harpies,"

"You're right, it doesn't," she acquiesced. "I quit the team for my position here,"

Theo closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath before opening them again. "Why?"

"I think you know why," she said, her voice softening. She may have felt bad about not doing the right thing by Theo but this wasn't something she'd feel guilty about.

"For _him_?" He asked. He didn't look quite as enraged as she'd expected but he didn't look happy, either.

"For Teddy," she said, her chin lifting a little. "he deserves a mom; a real one."

Theo breathed loudly through his nose and looked down at his feet. The anger was still there, seething beneath the surface, but something else lay hidden in the way he seemed resigned about what she'd said.

"You've always been a good mom to him, Gin," he looked back up. "But you're right, it's time to be a great one."

He walked off without so much as a glance back.

...

"I hope you don't find it rude that I won't be accompanying you," Professor McGonagle mentioned as she gestured towards Hagrid's hut. "We _are_ in the middle of O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. testing, after all."

"Of course, Headmistress," Hermione said. "It _i_ _s_ the beginning of May,"

"Indeed. Mr. Weasley has been a model-well, not a prisoner but," she trailed off. "he's been asking for you," she looked at Harry.

"Is Hagrid home?"

"No, he's in the Great Hall with the rest of the staff,"

"Alright then, see you later," Harry said and began the descent to Hagrid's.

"Miss Granger, a moment?"

Draco gave her an encouraging expression and followed Harry down the trail.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say... it's good to see you're doing well after..." her eyes were tight and she stopped herself short.

"Thank you, ma'am,"

"Please, Hermione, call me Minerva. I've told you that you could before,"

"I know. It just seems odd, though, doesn't it?"

"You've always been beyond your years. I don't think it so odd at all," she winked and turned tail back to the castle.

"Thank you... Minerva," Hermione tested the name out loud.

The woman's laughter rang out, an odd thing to behold after hearing it so rarely in all their years of knowing one another, and disappeared through an archway.

Hermione smiled to herself as she caught up with the boys at the bottom of the hill.

"Where is he?" She asked Harry. He opened the door to Hagrid's home and they were engulfed by warmth and the smell of herbs as they walked through.

She expected Ron to be in some cage or shackled as Harry had mentioned he'd asked McGonagle to do when she'd brought him here, but instead, she found him sitting in front of the fire with Fang, a too-large cup of tea in his hands. At their arrival, he smiled over at them and immediately got to his feet. The recognition she saw in that look alone was enough to know that he must have been Imperiused for a long while; it was a look she hadn't seen in what felt like months.

"Harry! Hermione!" He set down his cup and wrapped first one, then the other in big bear hugs. "I feel like I haven't seen you in so long!"

The genuine features and tone of voice made Hermione tear up a little.

"Are you crying?" Ron's face fell. She quickly wiped the moisture from her eyes and shook her head vigorously.

"Of course not!"

"Liar," he chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. As if he hadn't seen him before, Ron's gaze halted on Draco's form lingering in the doorway. "Malfoy? What're you doing here, mate?"

Draco went from cautious to confused in the span of a heartbeat.

"Well, I-"

"He came to see you, too," Hermione piped up. Ron took the couple steps forward and shook Draco's hand.

"Good to see ya,"

It was like everything he'd done or said had been erased somehow. All the hurtful, angry words against Draco and herself for getting together no longer existed for him.

"Now that you're here," Ron turned back to Harry. "Can someone explain to me what the bloody hell is happening?"

Hermione almost didn't want to tell him. Once it was revealed how he'd been acting, he was sure to be pissed off. Not just at himself, but at Lavender for making him do it all. She wished he could stay this happy, carefree version of himself that she loved so much. But like with any bad news, it was best to get it over with.

They all sat together at the large kitchen table and launched into everything that had been happening. Harry told Ron about all his strange, agitated behavior and Hermione let him know about how aggressively he'd been towards herself and Draco from the time he'd caught them kissing the night of the Ministry explosion.

"Kissing?" He looked equal parts confused and surprised. There was a little part of him that looked to be against it, probably due to the old days, but it passed quickly. "You're together?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded and smiled. Draco took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze, smiling affectionately at her.

"Weird," was all Ron said and they all burst out laughing.

"It's _very_ weird, you're right," Harry agreed.

They all settled and Ron's brows furrowed.

"I did all these things... things I can't even remember. It's strange,"

"What's the last thing you _do_ remember?" Draco asked.

"I remember... Sunday night dinner at mums. Lavender was mad about something and I left to chase after her, I think..." he took a sip of his tea and tried to concentrate. "That's all,"

"Ron, that was _weeks_ ago," Hermione said, her voice barely contained her anger.

"It was?"

"Yeah, mate," Harry said and clapped him on the shoulder. "but you're you, now. You'll be fine,"

"But who would do this to me? Who would make me out to be this jealous prat who berates his friends and attacks his best mate? And to what end?" He looked around the room at the three of them and Hermione knew it was time to tell him the worst part. She opened her mouth to speak but Harry cut her a look. She closed it again, letting him do the talking. He was the Auror, after all, and would be able to break the news better than she.

"Ron, it was Lavender," Harry cut to the quick.

Ron blanched.

"What?" Ron shook his head. "What reason would she have? We're in love. She's-"

Harry cut him off.

"There's a lot none of us knew about her,"

He let Ron know all the suspicion revolving around her; her time at the Prophet along with how volatile and uncooperative she'd been since they'd tracked her down in Ireland.

"They've already tested her wand, mate," Harry shrugged. "it was positive for the Unforgivable Curse."

Ron looked a bit lost.

That was the thing about Imperius, though. It often left you with holes you couldn't fill and no clue how to rebuild your life afterward. Messing with someone's free will was despicable. And sometimes the person remembered what they'd done or who'd cursed them so they could point a finger and get justice. But other times, the entire event was like a blank space in your timeline that you couldn't get back. Ron seemed to be the latter, which made matters worse. Being prosecuted for the curse was one thing; Lavender would definitely serve some time. But someone identifying her first hand would be the smoking gun to getting Ron's life back. Otherwise, it could be a matter of months before she'd be released to do it all over again. It all depended on circumstances and the story that was weaved to the Wizen. And with her having no previous offenses...

Hermione tried not to think about it too hard. Those were worries for another day. Right now, they needed to focus on Ron.

"Are you alright?" She asked. He'd been quiet for a bit and none of them had the heart to ask until now.

"Not alright but..." he shrugged, looking into the depths of his tea. Fang rested his large head on Ron's thigh and sighed, effectively making the melancholia of the room hit its' peak.

"Where do things go from here, Potter?" Draco asked.

"Ron will stay here for now,"

"Why?" Ron asked.

"You can't go home and you can't be taken in for questioning to the Ministry. Like I said before, Brunt may be a mole,"

"I can just go to the Burrow," Ron suggested. "I love Hagrid but his cooking has _not_ improved over the years,"

Hermione and Harry laughed at that and soon after, Ron joined in. Draco looked between them all like they were bonkers.

"It's not a bad idea," Hermione said to Harry. "the property has all sorts of wards up from the war..."

"Exactly. See? This is why she's the smart one," Ron smiled.

Harry deliberated. "I don't know... Hogwarts is about the safest place for you right now,"

"Please, Harry, I want to go home,"

How could Harry refuse when Ron looked like a lost boy? Hermione was glad she wasn't in charge-she would have caved already. Harry and Ron stared each other down a moment before Harry let out a defeated sigh.

"Alright,"

"Yes!" Ron stood abruptly and Fang let out a whine. "When can we leave?"


	43. Paparazzi

Ginny had been reading through some statistics for an article when a splash of orange was placed in front of her, blocking her view. She quickly realized it was a bouquet of dahlias. Looking up, she grinned widely at the man with dark hair and green eyes.

"Harry! What's this?" She asked, straightening in her chair. He came around the desk and sat on the edge next to her.

"I wanted to drop by," he smiled down at her. "I just dropped Ron off at your mums' and I was thinking about you."

"Really, how is he?" She asked.

"So much better now that he's not under that curse," Harry sighed and ran a hand down her cheek. "He seems himself again,"

"That's a relief," Ginny covered his hand in her own.

"How's today going?"

"I'm already causing all sorts of trouble," she grinned almost impishly and dropped her hand. She began shuffling all her paperwork together to put it away for the day.

"Ha," Harry nodded. "I have no doubt that's true. What's your victim count?"

"I'm very sure I don't know what you're talking about," she stood and lifted the flowers to her nose to inhale them briefly before leaning in to peck his cheek. He turned his head at the last moment and captured her in a passionate kiss. She felt him smile against her lips as he snaked his arms around her waist.

"Weasley!" A loud voice called out. She and Harry startled apart. Her boss, Barnabas Cuffe, was marching towards her desk.

"Mr. Cuffe!" She smiled weakly and extracted herself from Harry's embrace. "What a pleasant surprise," she tried to sound cordial. The man usually kept himself pretty planted in the Diagon Alley offices and didn't come around the Ministry late in the afternoon very often.

"I can tell you're surprised but whether it's pleasant or not remains to be seen," he bristled, his wirey glasses practically askew. "I came in to see how you're settling in and, much to my chagrin when I arrived, I've already received complaints about you. Not to mention seeing you in the offices canoodling with some random man-"

Harry stood and turned around to face the man whom he was very well acquainted with from his many years being splashed all over the pages of the Daily Prophet.

"Good afternoon, Cuffe,"

"Oh, Mr. Potter, hello," Barnabas sputtered, effectively stopped in his tracks.

"Sir, I promise there won't be any... canoodling... in the offices again," Ginny tried to hold back a laugh.

"That aside," Barnabas subdued his tone when he spoke again. "I've received numerous complaints that you've been harsh with the writers, even going as far as belittling-"

"Listen, sir," Ginny held her hands out to stop him. "you hired me to do a job. As a correspondent, I have to make sure people are getting their facts right and that their articles are above reproach. If I've ruffled some feathers with how I communicate, I'll work on that. But if it's about my thoughts and professional opinions, then there's no reason for us to be having this conversation. The work will speak for itself."

Barnabas hesitated, his eyes closing minimally while he pursed his lips and regarded her.

"I don't know. I like my organization to be a well-oiled machine, Weasley. Part of that includes no squeaky wheels or friction between my employees,"

"With all due respect, your sports section before was only doing so well because of Theo Nott. And even then, it was struggling. He's not only been doing his job, but the job of a correspondent for a couple of years now-even going as far as to rewrite others' work before the paper went to press. He held up the entire thing practically on his own. If you wanted to keep things how they were before-boring, not believable for your readers, and difficult for your star sportswriter, then be my guest: fire me. But I guarantee your subscriptions will be going up by the time the Sunday Prophet comes out this weekend if you don't."

Ginny held his gaze, staring him down in an attempt to convey how serious she was about her stance. Barnabas opened and closed his mouth a couple times in contemplation before finally releasing a long, audible sigh.

"Fine," he clipped. "we'll see how the stats are come Sunday. Until then, keep your comments strictly professional."

"I will. And please tell Charles to stop being overly sensitive. A writer has to be able to accept constructive criticism for the good of his articles. He can't go crying to his father every time I ask him to revise his work,"

"Noted," Barnabas agreed. He turned his body away. "Potter," he nodded.

"Cuffe," Harry nodded back.

When her boss was a sufficient ways away, Ginny sat down and released a large gust of air from her lungs.

"Jiminy," she shook her head. Harry snorted and she looked up, catching his eye. "What?"

"You're good at this," he said.

"At what?"

Harry gestured around the almost empty offices. A lot of the morning edition people had already gone home. Soon the evening edition people would be trickling in.

"I didn't know you'd like working here so much. I can tell you have a passion for it. Look at how you stood up to Cuffe,"

"Well, he was in the wrong. He basically came in here to slap me on the wrist because I've been hard on his son since I started. Charles has a lot of potential but his capacity for greatness is clouded by the ego of his father running the Prophet. He thinks he can be lazy. And I think that's rubbish,"

"You were brilliant," Harry checked to make sure Cuffe couldn't see them and kissed her chastely on the lips.

"Thank you," she beamed up at him.

"I want to take you out this evening," he said.

"Oh you do, do you?" She finished clearing her desk and began collecting her things. She magicked a vase and water for the flowers and set them up nicely in the corner so she'd be able to look at them while she worked.

"We haven't gone out yet since we've been back together," Harry stated. "and I want to take you for a proper meal,"

"I don't know, Harry, I've rather enjoyed staying in bed and ordering takeout the last five days," she caught his eye and smirked. His ears pinked a little and he grinned like a fool.

"I've liked that, too, but you deserve to be taken out, not just attacked every evening."

"Hmmm, but I so _enjoy_ the attacks," she lifted her jacket off the back of her chair. Harry grabbed it for her and helped her into it an arm at a time. Ginny swung her purse on her shoulder and they linked arms to walk out together.

"I do, too," he whispered in her ear as they waited for the lift. When it let out a soft _ding_ allowing them to enter through the open doors into an empty space, they got in and waited with bated breath as it hesitated, then closed its' doors at a snail's pace.

Harry immediately launched himself at her. He pressed her flush against the wall and began kissing her like it was what he needed to breathe. Ginny laughed low, grabbing his peacoat lapels to drag him closer still. She arched her back, allowing their middles to touch with sweet friction. Harry's erection grew and she began rubbing herself over him. He lifted up one of her thighs, pressing himself as close as he could, unyielding even as her breath hitched and her head fell back. He took the opportunity to lave kisses down her neck and licked the hollow of her throat.

The lift began to halt, the strange feeling of gravity yielding behind their belly buttons, and Harry pulled her from the wall to stand behind her before the doors opened so he could hide the tent in his pants. They chuckled softly together.

A few people walked in silently and pressed the buttons on the floors they needed and the doors shut once more.

Harry had his arms wrapped around her middle and gently shifted his hips backward and forward a few times against her bum, enticing her all the more since she couldn't do a damn thing about it. She smiled to herself, trying not to draw attention to them. She was sure her cheeks spoke enough about what they'd been doing before the lift opened. She didn't want to provide anyone further ammunition to scold her again today.

Several more stops later, Harry had calmed down enough for his attraction towards her to not show and they were able to walk into the entrance hall of the Ministry without much trouble.

"So where are we going for dinner tonight, Auror Potter?" Ginny asked. He'd been scanning the crowd suspiciously. She knew that he'd been trying to avoid Brunt at all costs. He'd even offered his boss loose explanations as to why he hadn't been in to do any paperwork on his findings so far. It wasn't unheard of for Auror's to be out of office for long periods, but he was a Senior Auror in charge of a high profile case. It made sense that Brunt was questioning him. Ginny wanted to take his mind off of it as much as she could, knowing the entire situation was driving him crazy.

"Now that you've got me all riled, I'm rethinking my strategy," he smirked at her through his now-full beard. He hadn't shaved once since the ball the weekend before. She wasn't sure if he just didn't find the time or if he was trying something new. Either way, she liked it immensely. It especially tickled when he was...

"I think that's a splendid idea. Let's go to my house for dinner," she suggested.

Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder from one of the Ministry fireplaces and shot her a look.

"I don't think that's such a great plan," he looked uncomfortable.

"And why not? We've practically been living at Grimmauld Place all week," she scooped up her own handful.

"When George and I were there to pick up Hermione this morning, she was... let's say... sporting different house colors,"

Ginny felt a huge smile begin to spread over her face and an excited squeal left her lips.

"No. Way!" She hopped from one foot to the other. "Hermione and Draco...?"

Harry's cheeks were in full flames now, embarrassment apparent.

"Ugh yes, okay. At least, that's how it looked,"

"Now we _definitely_ have to go to my house!"

Harry groaned but nodded in defeat.

"After you, love,"

"Don't mind if I do," she brushed past him and her voice rang out her address clearly into the emerald flames.

* * *

Hermione had been at her computer working most of the day after taking Ron to the Burrow. When Draco came up to the bedroom to check on her after work, he lingered in the doorway a moment to watch as she hunched over her laptop, her reading glasses perched at the end of her nose. She sensed him before he made his presence known.

"Hello, Draco," she said absentmindedly and fixed a spelling error in the new scene she'd written.

"How's my writer doing this fine evening?" He entered the room and rested his hands atop her shoulders. She didn't respond right away. Instead, her fingers tapped quickly across the keys to add something else. Draco began to knead her muscles and she finally allowed herself to check out of the story and into the present. Her head fell back to look at him. She sighed contentedly as he worked his magical fingers over her.

"Mmm that feels incredible," she allowed her eyes to drift shut. Draco leaned in for a kiss and she smiled. When he pulled back, she pulled her glasses off and set them on her desk.

"Making progress?" He asked.

"Mhmm," she turned in her chair to look at him. "I've added a bit more and edited some things. Hopefully, Charlotte won't feel too overworked when I'm done,"

"Nah," Draco waved a hand. "It's her job, after all, and we've been waiting for your pages,"

"I'm sorry," she felt guilty and was sure her grimace expressed it.

"Don't be. You can't help what's been thrown at you lately!" He said in a rush like she was being ridiculous. And maybe she was. But she always liked to do things right and this book had been one mistake after another. Sometimes she didn't think it was meant to be.

There was a rustling sound downstairs and sudden laughter made Hermione's heart swell.

"Ginny and Harry are home,"

Draco shot her an amused expression and followed her downstairs as she practically skipped with excitement.

"Hermione!" Ginny had her arms spread out and Hermione almost tackled her in a hug.

"You lot act as if you didn't just see one another the other day," Draco scoffed good-naturedly.

"It feels like much longer," Ginny said. "So much has happened."

"Indeed, that's true," Draco agreed almost somberly. Hermione let go of Ginny and caught his eye.

"But we're all okay. That has to count for something,"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Harry said. "There's still someone out there who wants you gone. If your wards didn't rival my own, I'd have sequestered you to Grimmauld Place already,"

"Let's talk about happier things," Ginny said brightly, trying to shift the mood. "Harry and I are staying here tonight but we were debating what to do for dinner."

"We could cook?" Hermione suggested.

"No," Draco and Harry said at the same time.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged humored glances.

"I mean, we haven't been out on a proper date yet," Draco said to her. "I wanted to take you out tonight,"

"That's ironic, considering Harry was literally just saying the same thing to me before we left work," Ginny nudged Harry in the ribs and he rolled his eyes.

"I suppose we could... all... go out to dinner together," he spoke painstakingly slow.

"Don't hurt yourself, Potter, I'm sure the girls wouldn't be into such vapid, silly things like double dates," Draco rolled his eyes.

Ginny eyed Hermione conspiratorially and winked.

"Actually, we're definitely that vapid and silly," she said to Draco and patted his arm sympathetically. "Sorry boys, but the decision is made already."

"Besides, if you think a double date with the two of you together is vapid, you have another thing coming," Hermione mentioned.

Draco and Harry refused to look at one another.

"Let's go get dressed," Ginny tugged on her hand. "You guys pick the place,"

"Shouldn't be too difficult, I suppose," Draco muttered.

"Let's hope not," Harry added.

Ginny dragged her upstairs and into her room.

"Gin, I need to grab clothes,"

"We're picking something from _my_ closet tonight," she revealed devilishly and closed the door behind them.

"What, why?"

"Because whatever they choose will be super nice and definitely worth being a little elevated for,"

"Are you trying to tell me my clothing isn't elevated?" Hermione tried to sound offended.

"You had one ace dress and you used it already," Ginny slid her closet open. Hermione may have gotten the master bedroom with the en suite bathroom, but Ginny hadn't cared because the second bedroom had a massive walk-in closet, which she used up in every way she could. It was filled with designer clothes and shoes.

"Touche, Weasley," Hermione nodded and began rifling through the clothing.

"Look over in this section," Ginny pointed to her right. "It's mainly dresses and skirts,"

The women got to work trying a few things on and picking out shoes.

Ginny had settled on a chic, black, cap-sleeved pantsuit with a cobalt-blue silk camisole underneath and stiletto heels. She had her hair hanging straight down her back, the bangs clipped in a little poof on the top of her head.

Hermione was a little curvier and had a hard time deciding. A lot of the dresses Ginny had were body-conforming and showed off every inch of her.

"I think you need to take a chance and wear something you normally wouldn't." Ginny suggested.

"Why?"

"Listen carefully," Ginny's voice lowered. Hermione's arm dropped with the lacey, white dress she'd been eyeing. "tonight, you'll be making your first public appearance since you were attacked at the ball. Because of how high profile we're all considered to be, there may very well be photographers who'll be staking out the house in order to get the first shot of you. I know you're not a vain person; you could care less about what you look like in tabloids. And I applaud that usually. But you also have to consider that whoever attacked you could see these pictures,

"I think you need to go out there rocking what you've got; show them they were fools to attack you and think it would diminish your light whatsoever."

Hermione's lip quivered ever so slightly. Ginny leaned in and held her for a moment and brushed the small smattering of bangs she had from her forehead as she pulled back.

"And you know, despite the tragic way in which you got it, this hair cut is _really_ working for you," Ginny said in a watery voice, her emotion matching Hermione's in every way. "Do you want me to trim and style it for you?"

Hermione nodded. It's what she'd been thinking of asking, anyways, and knew Ginny wouldn't make her look bad.

"Alright," Ginny wiped the under of her eyes and they swiped at her own. "pick something fabulous out and I'll fetch the shears from your room,"

* * *

 _This had to be one of the more barmy ideas the she-weasel had come up with._ Draco thought to himself as he reread the same sentence on a manuscript for the fifth time. He and Potter hadn't ever gotten along. Even their unspoken truce when he'd found out he and Hermione were together had been shaky, at best.

But the conversation Potter had sparked before they'd brought her home from St. Mungo's just solidified his stance on how he felt about him. To Potter, Draco would always be that prat of a kid he went rounds with at school. It didn't matter what he'd done to change or how he treated the man's best friend. Draco was clearly always going to be an enemy.

Hermione was the love of his life, though, and he was determined to prove to Potter that he'd never do anything to show him otherwise. Not that he felt too strongly that he had to prove _anything_ to that speckled git, but still.

"So it's settled? Antony's Italian Bistro?" Potter asked, looking fatigued.

"Sure," Draco replied. The restaurant was sufficiently upscale; it would be everything Hermione deserved and more.

The sale of Malfoy Manor had covered a majority of the medical expenses that had remained after his mothers' death, and he'd been able to pay off the co-workers he'd taken loans from in the past once the gold from Pearlman hit his account a couple of days prior. The only loan he had left to work on was the one he'd taken out from Gringott's for his mothers' in-home nurse. There wasn't too much left to pay on it and he'd set up a plan for monthly transactions. He'd even made it a mission to go down to the dress shop Hermione had gotten her gown at to square up the bill. But when he spoke with the manager there, she said the Black account had already been dealt with. He found it odd but didn't want to question a gift horse in the mouth while he was at the shop he'd owed money to. He'd left feeling lighter than he could ever remember.

It felt freeing to be almost completely debt-free. He'd owed so many people money for so long, he'd worried it had made his friendships at work suffer. Not that any of them had let on they felt as such.

But now he had a steady income that wasn't garnished and could afford things like dinners for his girl. He set aside the manuscript, giving up on his wavering inability to focus, and looked over at Potter lounging on the couch, checking his phone. From where he sat at the kitchen island, Draco could see Potter looked a little lighter, himself. He chalked it up to Ron Weasley's goofy return of self.

"Weasley settling in?" He chanced a conversation.

"Seems to be," Potter snorted. "His mum seems to be feeding him like a pig to slaughter, if the pictures he's been sending me are any indication,"

"Mrs. Weasley does love feeding her people," Draco agreed.

"That she does,"

"So hey," Draco walked over to lean against the mantle. "You and Ginny... you two making an honest go of things?"

Potter regarded him with something akin to annoyance. One upon a time, it wouldn't have been any of his damn business what those two did. But he'd gotten to know and like Ginny a lot in the year she'd dated Theo and he wanted to make sure things were going to be okay for her.

"Yes," he replied bluntly.

"Just making sure,"

"Listen, I know Nott is your friend-"

"You're right, he is. But this is about Ginny. She wasn't in the right frame of mind to really date anyone when Theo came into her life. He healed her in a lot of ways; brought her out to clubs with us and attended all her games... she's a lot different from when I first became friends with her, that's for sure. Just be sure of her, Potter. She deserves to be happy,"

"I'm more than sure, Malfoy, I love her," Potter said cooly, giving him a stare that clearly said, _back off_. But Draco plowed on.

"I know you do. I'm not blind. But just because you love someone doesn't mean you'd be good for them,"

"That's rich, coming from you,"

"The moment my actions start becoming problematic or detrimental to Hermione's happiness, there'll be a discussion of whether or not to continue our relationship. Until then, I've promised myself to her, body and soul, Potter." Draco deadpanned, needing him to know how serious he was.

"You'd just break up with her if things got hard?" _Of course he'd take it the wrong way..._

"No. As I said, we'd talk things through and decide rationally if we should stay together. The last thing I want to do is hurt her,"

Potter deliberated his speech quietly, one hand leaning on the armchair, the other covering his mouth as he stared absently down at the floor.

"We're ready! You guys are gonna absolutely __swoon__ when you see Hermione!" Ginny called down the stairs excitedly.

"Hurry, please. As stimulating as Potter's company is, I find myself rather bored," Draco drawled. Potter scoffed and got to his feet.

Ginny stepped down and he had to admit, she looked good. Not a lot of women could pull off a pantsuit and still look sexy. Weasley always had a knack for fashion, though, so it shouldn't come as a surprise.

"You look beautiful," he heard Potter say to Ginny. But after those soft words, he couldn't hear anything else except the thrumming of his own heart.

Hermione was standing in simple black heels, her legs bare from mid-thigh down. She wore a strappy red dress that hugged her curves enough to show she had them but loosely enough around her legs that she could move easily in it. Her lips were painted maroon and her eyes were lined in khol; her eyelashes, which were usually already dark and long, were painted black, as well, fluttered over her cheeks as she blinked up at him. Her hair was cut and styled now, accentuating the small sweep of bangs she had over her forehead with two tiny pieces that stuck down near her ears in points. If she were wearing wings, he'd believe in fairies in a heartbeat. She practically was one. A _sexy_ one, at that.

Draco looked away, unable to hide the blush that fanned out over his cheeks from the mere sight of her. Her beauty awoke things in him that made it near impossible to leave the house. He wished more than anything that Potter and Ginny would leave so he could have his way with her instead of playing nice in a restaurant for the next hour.

"Do I..." Hermione fidgeted with the thin straps of her dress and looked down at her feet. "Do I look okay?"

"Hermione, you're a babe!" Ginny proclaimed.

"I think she was asking Malfoy," Potter mumbled.

Draco looked up and could tell instantly how nervous she was. She wouldn't look anyone in the eye and appeared uncomfortable. He closed the distance between them and took her face between his hands, drawing her gaze up.

"Are you alright?"

"I think it's just nerves," she said softly. "as Ginny was kind enough to point out, it'll be my first time in public since the ball..."

Draco glared over his shoulder at Ginny.

"What? It's a fact," she held up her hands.

"One you didn't have to point out," he snapped.

"Draco," Hermione laid a hand on the lapel of his blazer, bringing his eyes back to hers. "really, I'm okay. I know with you by my side I'll be fine."

He felt his features soften and he swept her in a crushing embrace, running one hand through the back of her hair and the other around her waist.

"Always, love,"

She hugged him back fiercely before pulling away and giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek.

"Let's go, I'm starving," she smiled, looking a little braver.

"Here, here," Potter agreed.

They all made their way out the door. Potter and Ginny apparated away first as Hermione finished putting her wards back up around the house. Draco held her tight and leaned into her ear.

"You look positively _gorgeous_ by the way. You're lucky we're leaving at all,"

Hermione laughed softly and wrapped her arms around his middle when she was done.

"Don't tempt me, Malfoy. You owe me a proper date, after all,"

"That I do, Granger, that I do,"

They apparated hurriedly away to join the others before any more flirting caused them to run back into the house.

* * *

" _Shit,_ " Draco cursed under his breath as a gaggle of paparazzi leaned casually against cars and vans across the street from the restaurant.

Dinner had gone much as expected. Hermione and Ginny had carried most of the conversation with Harry and Draco chiming in here and there between bites of their dinner. Antony's had been a favorite of hers for a while and she had been glad to be out with some of her favorite people for the evening. They ate, laughed and drank themselves into a relaxed state by the end of it. Even the boys seemed to get along a bit better with some alcohol in their system. But like all good things, it had to come to an end eventually.

"We can walk down to a different apparation point," Harry suggested.

"Or we can ask the manager if they have a personal floo in the back?" Ginny added.

"It was probably the manager who called them," Draco said conspiratorially under his breath, scoping out the crowd forming. They'd made it to the door of the restaurant before noticing the swarm. Now they were like sitting ducks.

"No, it's alright," Hermione said and opened the door to step out.

" _Hermione_ ," Draco hissed but it was too late. As soon as they spotted her, a flood of men and women jumped to attention and began crossing the street to take pictures.

"Hermione!"

"Miss Granger!"

"Granger, over here!"

"It's Harry Potter!"

"Hermione, look this way!"

"Flash us a smile!"

"Ginny Weasley-!"

"-Harpies anymore?"

"-your recovery?"

"Miss Granger!"

"Hermione Granger, this way!"

"-Draco Malfoy is involved?"

"-Potter!"

"Granger! Hermione Granger!"

Hermione waited until they were completely surrounded before holding up her hands. The crowd took a few moments but finally, they quieted.

"Good evening. I'll only take a few questions and then you lot need to leave me be. I deserve that privacy after the ordeal I've been through, do I not?" She asked them rhetorically. They muttered in unison a sort of agreeable sound and she began fielding questions one at a time.

"You," she pointed to a pretty blonde who had a cameraman with a large bulb flash on top of his equipment.

"Witch Weekly, Miss Granger, thank you for your time. Can you let us know first and foremost how you're feeling?"

"Thanks to the amazing Healers and Mediwitch staff at St. Mungo's, I'm completely fine." Hermione tried to smile in a genuine capacity. "Next question," she pointed to a stout man with a long beard.

"Daily Prophet, ma'am. Do you think your attack had something to do with the fact that you're in a relationship with Draco Malfoy?"

"There's no evidence that leads me to believe that,"

"But you were attacked at _his_ estate-"

"You must be quite uninformed for a reporter, sir, because that ball was the kickoff party for the purchase of the Malfoy estate by Madame Pearlman," she said coolly.

"I just meant-"

"Next question,"

"Warlock Weaver, Miss. Does the Auror Department think your attack was a one-time occurrence or has Mr. Potter been assigned as your personal security?"

"I am my own personal security; I always have been, sir," she stared him down. The man was older, looking old enough to be her father. "As for the AD's theories, you'd have to ask them."

"Zackery Thickett reporting from the Quibbler, ma'am," A young wizard, no older than twenty, stepped to the front of the crowd.

"I should've known Xenophilius would send someone out. Although he could have just asked for an exclusive and I would've given him one," Hermione smiled kindly at the young man. He returned it and nodded his head.

"He didn't want to interrupt your recovery, ma'am,"

"How kind of him," Hermione said. "What's your question, Mr. Thickett?"

"What're your plans going forward to deal with this attack?"

Hermione faltered. She hadn't thought that far so really, she didn't have one.

"Everyone knows a good defense is a strong offense. Or so the muggles say," she began slowly. "My best offense is the brave men and women at the Auror Department. It's their jobs to dole out justice and catch the bad guys," she looked over her shoulder at Harry. "and I have no doubt that's exactly what they'll do. Excuse us,"

The crowd exploded with unanswered questions but they let them through; Hermione spearheading their group as they headed to the apparation point.

"Great job, Hermione," Draco muttered positively and wrapped his blazer around her freezing shoulders. He draped an arm around her and she smiled up at him.

"Thanks. I hate those sort of things,"

"I remember from the ball," he smirked.

"Oh yeah," she nodded. "I forgot about that,"

"Well you did brilliantly," Harry said from her other side. "Very diplomatic and yet, honest."

"That's our girl," Ginny smirked. "I told you the dress would give you super confidence!"

"Wait, you anticipated this?" Draco asked.

"Of course," she shrugged. "Hermione is practically a celebrity. Her attack was splashed over all the papers after the ball. I had a feeling people would tip off the paparazzi if we went out so I had her dress to impress."

"You also didn't consider the fact that her attacker could find out her whereabouts, Ginny," Draco seethed.

"No, she thought of that," Hermione said and caught his eye as they came to a stop in a dark alley next to a dry cleaner where there was an apparation point. "It was Ginny's idea to make me look as confident and healthy as possible for when the papers showed up,"

"Why on earth take the risk?"

"Because," an unfamiliar voice broke into their conversation. "the better she looks to the world, the worse the attacker will feel about their failure to kill her,"

 **Once again, I apologize for this late update. I've had a bad, lingering cold on top of work, Halloween, mom-ing, and my husband and I looking at potential houses. Plus NaNoWriMo started yesterday. My cold has prevented me from writing at all the last week, though, so I haven't started yet. But I had some pages of this that were begging to be put online so I thought I'd** **peel myself out of my sickbed to update you guys. In other news: the holidays are upon us! Hopefully, that means lot's of cute holiday stories to read on here. I do love reading the fics as well as writing! Also! I'm attending the Yule Ball held by my local Harry Potter Alliance chapter in December. Anyone else have any fun Harry Potter-related plans?**


	44. What He Discovered

Really, he expected him to make a stealthier move at contact. But Gil was nothing if not an enigma; constantly changing his patterns to suit his needs.

As the dark-haired man sat in the armchair near the fireplace at Hermione's flat, a mix between relief and dread sat uncomfortably in the pit of Draco's stomach. If Gil were here, willing to expose himself to people he didn't trust, it must mean he'd found the agreed-upon information and proof that'd been asked of him.

Hermione brought over a small tea service, reminding him of one of his first nights living there, and poured Gil a cup before serving the rest of the group.

"Cheers," Gil raised his teacup in salute and took a sip.

"Now that you've been received properly, care to tell me why you'd approach in such a public setting?" Draco asked suspiciously. Gil took another sip, savoring the calming chamomile.

"Before we get into all that, I need to call in my favor first,"

"Oh, no," Draco shook his head. "You give _us_ the information I asked for and then we'll discuss what I can do for you,"

"I can't reveal what I know without assurance that I'll be given my fair share," Gil shrugged.

"What is this man on about, Malfoy?" Potter asked.

"You don't recognize him?" Hermione asked her friend. Potter looked Gil over, assessing him in a way only a wizard cop would, and shook his head.

"Should I?"

"I'd think so, considering I'm revered as a war criminal in some... _circles_ ," Gil dropped a sugar cube into his tea and took another sip as if he had nothing better to do.

"This is Gilbert Goyle, Harry," Hermione sat next to Draco and placed a hand on his thigh.

"As in _Gregory_?" Potter raised his eyebrows.

"As in," Gil affirmed. "Cousins. Sort of. Well, you know how strange all the inbreeding is for purebloods," he rolled his eyes.

"He was a double agent for the Ministry, some thought," Hermione said. "but he disappeared before anyone could really suss out his allegiances." She turned to face Gil now. "You know that no one's really been looking for you, right?"

"Doesn't mean I wish to be found so easily,"

"A guilty man hides. Tell me, are you guilty of something, sir?"

"Only being too loyal,"

Draco snorted.

"It's the truth, no matter what you may think, little Malfoy. If your mother was here, she'd attest to it,"

"Don't bring her up so casually," Draco warned coolly.

"And why not? She was my friend,"

"But she was _my_ mother. I won't have you speak of her as if you knew her better or-"

"I did, though," Gil argued without passion like he was telling a simple truth.

"How dare you-?"

"Draco," Hermione squeezed his thigh a little and he held his tongue, dragging in a breath. He looked into her chocolate-brown eyes and felt instantly comforted. Clearing his throat, he went on.

"What is the favor?"

Gil's eyes landed on Potter now.

"Immunity,"

"From what?" Potter asked.

"I had to do some digging in... unconventional places... to acquire the information Draco asked for. That aside, I'm sure the Auror's have a file on me that can't make heads or tails of my actions during the last wizarding war. I'd like a clean slate,"

The more Gil talked of his misdeeds, the more unsteady his voice became.

"Gil, what's going on?"

"I need your word, Potter," Gil wouldn't take his eyes off the bespeckled man. "if I tell you who blew up the Ministry and has been launching attacks at Granger, you have to _swear_ and put in writing that you'll grant me immunity and also," his eyes shifted to Draco only a moment before locking his gaze with Potter once more. "you'll offer me a safehouse to stay in until it's all dealt with and the guilty parties are locked away,"

Potter regarded him with a calculating expression.

He had the authority to do this of course. As a Senior Auror and war hero, no one would question him too much about his decision.

"That's the info you asked him for?" Hermione's eyes widened. "How could he find something out like that so quickly when the Auror's haven't made any leeway in discovering it?"

"I don't play by their rules," Gil said. "but as a former Auror, I knew exactly what I had to do in order to uncover what I needed to know,"

"Why do you need a safehouse?" Draco asked finally. "You've never been one to seek out help from the law before. You've always carved your own way,"

Gil regarded each of them in turn slowly before a look of resignation settled over him.

"Cassandra," he said. "she's pregnant,"

The room seemed to hold its' breath.

"Who?" Ginny asked.

"His wife," Draco said.

"You're married?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," he simply answered.

"I promise to grant you immunity and a safehouse, like you're requesting," Potter said.

Gil looked shocked, then relieved. "Thank you-"

"Under one condition," Potter went on.

Gil's face fell a fraction and suspicion began to blossom. "What?"

"You need to tell me the truth. And I'll know if you're lying. I've trained for many years in legilimency,"

"Just like the Dark Lord, huh? Loads said you two were similar in weird ways but I never believed-"

"Just answer this one question," Potter's voice rang out. "Were you loyal to Voldemort or the resistance?"

Gil looked taken aback. Draco was sure no one had ever really asked him straight out and actually expected a real answer. Sure, Voldemort did his fair share of snooping through Gil's mind a time or two when he'd began his service to him, but Gil was also extremely gifted at occlumency. A fact that Potter couldn't know but seemed to expect as he turned his head slightly and focused his mind. Gil didn't fight it. He actually gave in.

"I served the Dark Lord faithfully until I enlisted as an Auror at his behest,"

"Like Snape," Hermione mumbled. "he followed Voldemort until Lily was killed. He pretended to be a Death Eater for _years_ after that,"

At the mention of his late Godfather, Draco felt a pang of sorrow.

"So what, did you have a change of heart or something?" Potter asked. Gil's face crumpled.

"No, I had a change of _belief_. My blood status had never done me any favors; only caused my world pain. And that was proven over and over the longer I followed the Dark Lord. One day he even ordered me to kill a group of muggle children playing outside near one of his spider holes. He said the noise was too loud and could I do something about it?" Gil scoffed, disgusted.

"And did you?" Potter asked.

"Of course I did." Gil rolled his eyes. "I magicked them away. I draw the line at harming children."

"You disobeyed a direct order?"

"Not that he was aware," Gil shrugged. "all he cared was that the noise ended. Shortly after that, he ordered me to join the Auror's to steal inside information and warn anyone about potential raids of his hideouts. I quickly learned which was the right side and did my best to help out in any way possible."

"Anything else I should know?"

"Only one," at this, he looked at Draco again. "I tried numerous times to get you and your mother out of that house. She knew of my allegiances and begged me to take you away. But I knew if I took you and not her, I'd never be presented with the chance to see her alive again. So I risked the long con," Gil bowed his head. "and for that, I'm truly sorry."

Draco hesitated. How many times had Gil been at the house? It seemed he was constantly there checking in and whispering secrets to his mother; each of them doing one another favors that they'd never share aloud. Gil had never hidden the affection he'd had for his her. It was always very obvious from where he was standing. And Narcissa always spoke highly of Gil, even going as far as to call him family a few times while she argued with Lucius. Draco hadn't ever really thought too hard about it until now.

Gil had been asked by his mother to save Draco's life and take him from the Manor. It was something she'd definitely think to do. But Gil had refused, swearing to never leave her behind.

Draco couldn't think of anything more honorable.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Draco said. "I never would have left her there to fend for herself,"

Gil gave him a proud sort of expression and nodded once.

"We both knew you'd say that,"

"She was the only reason I became a Death Eater in the first place. I couldn't live with myself if I survived that place and she didn't," Draco revealed. "Although, she didn't survive as long as I thought she would, anyway,"

"She got to live her last years with you," Hermione chimed in. "I'm sure she was happy just to live while she could,"

Draco nodded and ducked his forehead to lean on her shoulder. No one spoke for a while which allowed everyone to process. The crackles of fire were soothing, making the quiet moment comfortable instead of awkward.

"I'll have the immunity documents drawn up," Potter broke the silence.

"I appreciate it, Potter. Cass is really scared and I can't have her feeling too anxious. The pregnancy is risky enough," Gil revealed.

"Is she alright?" Draco asked, his medical training kicking in. "How far along is she?"

"Almost eight months,"

"She didn't look pregnant when I last saw her," Draco said, confused. He was sure she'd been drinking ale at the Leaky when he'd first seen them.

"We use charms to disguise ourselves a lot of the time,"

"Makes sense," Hermione said. "she needs to be protected at all costs and you're not necessarily in a position to do that except for charms and intuition,"

"There's a compliment in there somewhere," Gil smirked at her.

"Of course," she smiled and poured him more tea.

"What about your intel, Gil?" Draco asked, drawn back to the entire reason the guy had risked exposure and sought them out on the busy street.

"Right, yeah," Gil knocked back his entire cup of tea and held out his cup. "Got anything stronger than this Granger?"

"I'll grab the firewhiskey," Ginny offered and hurried into the kitchen, fetching a small bottle from a cupboard above the oven. She made quick work of pouring Gil some and he knocked that back, as well, before answering Draco's question.

"Madame Pearlman," he said. "She's who owns the DVF."

"What?" Hermione blanched. "How do you know for sure?"

"The acronym is her initials," Gil said.

"No, it's not," Potter said matter-of-factly.

"Her full name, according to those who were in Voldemort's exclusive secret circle, was Death Eater Victorius Fawley."

Hermione looked up at Draco who, in turn, looked over at Ginny and Potter. They all had the same, surprised looks on their faces.

"But she wasn't even a Death Eater," Draco sputtered.

"Not publicly, maybe," Hermione said. "but it makes sense. You saw how she reacted to me every time we met. She called me a mudblood and talked to you as if I weren't even present. She even went as far as to have two separate seats for me at the ball in the hopes that I'd choose to sit with my family instead,"

"Shit," Draco cursed.

"You have proof of what you say, correct?" Potter asked Gil.

"I have documents in a secret location proving what I say,"

"What sort of documents?"

"A few packing slips of supplies being shipped to St. Mungo's. One in particular is a kill order for a dragon that wasn't able to regrow its scales,"

"Barbaric," Hermione sighed angrily, a sheen of tears forming along the ridges of her eyes. Draco wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

"Anything else?"

"I found an order form for an enchanted sealing tube, as well,"

"A what?"

"The note," Hermione said in a hushed tone.

"What note?" Draco asked.

"The one left behind after the explosion, remember? Kingsley said it had been magically sealed somehow and left in a steel filing cabinet so that it wouldn't be damaged before we could read it,"

"Sonofabitch," Potter muttered. "Wasn't it also written in dragon's blood? It was a warning if we all didn't back off the case,"

"That can't be the only reason she tried to kill Hermione. I mean, she hasn't done a damn thing to Charlie Weasley and he's been investigating the case for weeks without Hermione's help," Draco said.

"Maybe we're dealing with two unrelated cases, after all," Potter mused. "Charlie only hasn't been attacked because he's hermited himself away behind the wards at his parents' house,"

"He was at the ball, though, right?" Hermione mentioned.

"He never left public spaces, otherwise I'm sure they would have gotten to him, too,"

"All this over a business that abuses dragons?" Draco asked, disgusted.

"Maybe it's a front for something else," Ginny added. "Or maybe the money from the operation is going towards something illegal,"

"Any of that could be true," Potter thought out loud. "But the main concern is keeping the people involved safe until it can be sorted." His eyes landed on Hermione then.

She shook her head.

"Oh no, Harry Potter. You are _not_ placing me under house arrest. We have no idea when any of this will be solved. We don't even know her motive! Without it, you can't arrest her,"

"It's not forever," he promised her. "Just give me a few days to sort what we know,"

"One,"

"Three,"

"One,"

Potter made an impatient noise. "Three. Or we'll make you stay with Molly,"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms in an adorable pout.

"Come on, love, it won't be so bad." Draco encouraged her.

"Says the man who gets to leave for work every day. Kingsley won't even send me things to do anymore since my attack. He sent me an owl relieving me from all job duties until this is all settled. I can't just stop my life," she complained.

"You aren't. You're still writing, aren't you?"

Potter and Ginny exchanged a glance.

"Sort of,"

"You can communicate with Charlotte about your new pages at any time. Just focus on what you can for now while Potter does what he's paid for, for once,"

"Oi!"

"Just sayin', you've been slacking in the leads department lately,"

"Draco," Ginny chastised him good-naturedly and poured another shot of firewhiskey in each of their cups.

"Fine, I'll agree to stay here for three days. But I make no promises beyond that." Hermione relented begrudgingly.

"Atta girl," Gil leaned over and clinked their cups together. Hermione gave him a sardonic smile and leaned back on the couch. Without preamble, she knocked her shot back and held her cup out again.

"I'm going to need another one of those,"

"Coming right up," Ginny smirked.


	45. Apologies

Greetings everyone!

I wanted to start off this little update by saying Happy New Year but the world seems to be in shambles, doesn't it? So I'll get down to business.

There'll be an update soon, I promise! I took the holidays off but then got sucked into finishing my first book. It's almost done but between all that, my hubby and I were looking at houses and just happened to get lucky enough to make an offer that got accepted on one! It's exciting stuff! Moving is a pain, though, and it's taken a long time to pack up, move, and get settled. I hope you'll all forgive the delay and are still interested in the story!

Stay safe and healthy in these troubling times and don't forget to read!

-Megan


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